


The Ascendant

by OneThousandCuts



Series: The Ascendant [1]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Dirge of Cerberus: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: Gen, Post-Dirge of Cerberus, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 10:29:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 93,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18939106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneThousandCuts/pseuds/OneThousandCuts
Summary: In the midst of a deadly, new Geostigma outbreak, everything seems to fall apart. In the chaos, a child Sephiroth Remnant falls into Tifa's care. As the puppet strings tighten, conflicts of interest abound until they hit critical mass.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place roughly 5 years post Meteor, 3 years post ACC, and 2 years post DoC
> 
> Fic was originally published to ff. net in 2011.

 

**Three years ago-**

" _Tell me what you cherish most. Give me the pleasure of taking it away."_

" _I pity you. You just don't get it at all. There's not a thing I don't cherish!"_

… _._

" _Stay where you belong, in my memories…"_

" _I will…never be a memory…"_

… _._

_..._

_..._

" _Everything? Very well…Cloud…"_

 


	2. Peace and Calamity

Tifa rummaged through the bar cupboards, pulling out mismatched mugs and shot glasses, and putting them away again. It had been too long since she'd last organized, and at the rate business was picking up, failure to do so would result in chaos and lost Gil. Next week, Seventh Heaven was hosting a wedding reception, of all things! She sighed at the thought. Just last night, a worn out businessman had ordered a medium glass of beer, and had been delivered a pint instead. Obviously, that made his night infinitely more pleasant, but not even his slurred thanks and meager tip could make up for the sheer amount of free ale he'd consumed. The last thing she needed was to piss off a bunch of wedding attendees or intoxicate them beyond their capacity for halfway decent behavior. Carefully lining up the last set of colored margarita glasses, Tifa allowed herself a small, contented smile, grateful that the small pains of running the bar were the worst of her everyday worries. So very small and insignificant, compared to what she'd forced herself to accept as normal in years past.

She didn't have to think twice about Cloud's mental stability and hadn't for a few years now. ShinRa, or what was left of it, essentially left them alone. No super-fiends, Weapons or summoned monsters terrorized the face of Gaia. There was no one left to fight, and no one to fear aside from the few lonely, wasted men who loitered in the bar too long, and they always readily found their asses firmly planted on the pavement outside.

And best of all, there really was no reason to believe that…..

Tifa stopped her thoughts where they stood, recognizing the dangerous rabbit trail they'd found, mystified about why. No evidence presented itself either way, as to whether or not that person could resurface again. But as matters stood for now, no news was good enough. It was best simply not even to think the name. That one man could bring the world to its knees like he had, and completely corrode any sense of restoration made Tifa ever more thankful for the decidedly bland, mundane, day-in, day-out existence she and Cloud now finally enjoyed.

Gazing out the window, she noted the late hour. The last bit of sunlight reflected off of neighboring rooftops, and a humid haze was settling in for the night. Cloud was supposed to be on his last run for the day by now. Hopefully, he'd get home in time to avoid inclement weather. Reeve had been running the poor guy ragged as of late, carting various artifacts from the ruins of ShinRa Headquarters, or more specifically, Deepground. Some of those items could be dangerous if handled by someone with little or no previous Mako exposure. Incidentally, Cloud had basically taken a bath in it more than once, making him the prime candidate for such a task.

 _That_ was actually one true worry, now that she thought about it—he'd told her about some of the things he'd been commissioned to deliver. Among them were Jenova cells, or at least, artificially manufactured specimens that were apparently indistinguishable from the real thing under a microscope. As he'd explained, the W.R.O. felt it wise to collect as much as they could and store them in cryogenic stasis for safety and study. Why? To prevent a possible future Reunion, for one, although gathering everything to one place seemed counterproductive to that objective.

More than that, the W.R.O. was in search of a vaccine for post-Geostigma-related complications and possible future genetic impairments. SOLDIER had been comprised of a rather large number, and many of those men had children now. Once the plague went into remission, W.R.O. researchers found that a rather disproportionate number of children who'd died from the illness had been the offspring of former SOLDIERs. They'd been born naturally with Jenova in their genetic make-up, so they just as naturally attracted the tainted Lifestream that contained the original.

But still,  _JENOVA!_  Tifa understood the need for medical advancement, but that creature, or any copy of it, was not to be trifled with. Nevertheless, Reeve had assured them that human testing wouldn't become so much as fantasy until they were five hundred percent sure that the negative side effects were limited to headache and abdominal pain—maybe diarrhea on a bad day. The W.R.O. had no designs on creating genetically rare super-humans, Sephiroth clones, or intelligent monsters. He even went so far as to promise that the moment anything like that happened as the product of an error, they would trash the whole project, and all vestiges of Jenova related bio-materials would be incinerated. To add to Cloud's comfort, Vincent volunteered (demanded) to play a watchdog role, and Reeve had gladly acquiesced. It was the perfect opportunity for him to do what he wished he had been able to when the first Jenova Project had gotten out of hand. It would be his  _job_  to step in on the first suspicion of something gone awry, and to apprehend and restrain any scientist who refused to back down upon orders.

Another dicey W.R.O. science project Cloud made deliveries for was a full-scale survey of Lifestream tectonic activity. No one had bothered to explain why they felt the need to monitor fluctuations in the Lifestream so closely, though. They certainly weren't surveying for Mako fonts suitable for reactors, because the public would surely kill them upon finding out. Literally. Each and every employee would be dead. Mass production of Mako was practically a taboo anymore, and the populace frowned upon even simple, unrefined uses. And now, Tifa frowned. So much for the hopeful attitude she'd tried to cultivate this evening. Maybe the faces were friendlier and reasons far more benevolent, but how was this really that much different from ShinRa?

Maybe it was moral and ethical superiority? The World Regenesis Organization would never intentionally harm the Planet. The W.R.O. played host to orphans and found them good homes. The W.R.O. led the way in research for cures to all the maladies ShinRa had caused, including society's former addiction to Mako. The W.R.O. used Jenova for good, where ShinRa had used it for evil. The W.R.O. took care of its soldiers and hired mercenaries, while Shin-Ra had used and abused them. The W.R.O. was…ShinRa's brainchild; its alter personality, Tifa concluded. Well-meaning all around, but at its core, it could very well turn into the same creature playing with the same dangerous toys.

Discomfort settled in the pit of her stomach, and she peered out the window again. Was Cloud one of the players on that field, or was he one of the toys? It was such a morbid thought, but the past ten years had taught her not to avoid them. A car had just pulled up in the driveway, probably the first customer of the night. Letting the curtain fall closed in her wake, Tifa took her place behind the counter, half tempted to serve herself first to take the edge off. Perhaps something mild and flavorful like a coconut rum would do-just enough to make her stop thinking too much, and to help her be a more cheerful host.

* * *

 

Blood. Cloud raced through the foggy night, the urgency of this delivery almost frightening. No, it really was quite terrifying. The W.R.O.'s Deepground Excavation Team had turned up large quantities of it, and it wasn't human. Behind him, the locked case was secured tightly, holding several vials of blood, each neatly labeled with a date and specimen name—"J1, J2, J3…". Jenova's blood, supposedly.

This was no surprise, given where it had come from, for it was probably the most easily administered source for SOLDIER and other experiments back then. Perfect for the unwitting transfusion patient due for his next Mako treatment, Cloud mused, bile rising to the back of his throat. Briefly, he wondered if that's how he'd been infected with Jenova's cells years ago in Nibelheim, but he cast the thought away as quickly as possible. Tiny memorial fragments like that were useless. What did it matter exactly how it was done? The proverbial ticking bomb he carted with him, along with those memories, were the last things in the world that should be left unsecured. If Reeve didn't order this little discovery destroyed, Cloud had a mind to take care of it himself. Burn it, and boil the ashes in water from Aerith's church, until nothing alive or unholy could possibly remain.

So much he never told Tifa, the random realization swept through his mind, and he felt miserably guilty. One particularly awful secret he kept from her was that a mutation of Geostigma had surfaced, striking down only a select few. It was an ugly strain, leading to almost instant loss of mental faculties, and bodily degradation on the cellular level. Three people had been found liquefied already. The rotting mass left in place of the bodies, upon testing, was ascertained to be composed largely of  _live_  Jenova cells. Almost nothing discernibly human remained, only alien. Geostigma had evolved into a very, very aggressive flesh-eating virus—more so than it had been before by far. At least it didn't appear to be contagious. Yet. But the malady's very existence was hellishly foreboding. This particular illness, Cloud knew, was bioterror at its finest, unless nature had simply had its way with it in the aftermath. He could only pray.

Coaxed on by bitter anxiety and determination, and in spite of the thickening fog, Cloud hit the gas hard, urging Fenrir forward in a burst of illegal speed. Time was more than of the essence—it was running out. Adding to his difficulty, small drops of rain began to pelt his eyes as he pressed forward through Edge. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it occurred to him that it might be wise to stop and let Tifa know he'd be a little longer, but he ignored the notion, and kept going. He could always call her when the delivery was complete and safely locked down where it belonged. Blinking fast to remove the excess moisture, he sped past the small alleyway that led to Seventh Heaven.

Reaching the outskirts of the city, a sharp prickling at the base of his skull told Cloud that something was amiss. Then his head started throbbing—it  _hurt!_  The pain was eerily familiar, like an intentional onslaught, and he glared at the package strapped in behind him. It was quite simple. Of course whatever of Jenova was left in him would be drawn to that! Gritting his teeth in frustration more than pain, he kept his senses focused by talking back. "Now's not the time for this," he scolded it. "Be quiet."

As if to mock him, a sharp pain stabbed directly between his eyes, throwing his vision out of focus. Cloud winced, and the bike swerved slightly.

He held fast to the handlebars and slowed down. Haste would be useless if all it did was get him killed in the end. Cloud also changed his mind in that moment. It was time to tell Tifa about all he'd become involved in again. To keep her in the dark would only endanger her. They should probably check up on Denzel, too, he mentally added. Considering the boy's history with Geostigma, it would be comforting to see him in good health. He'd long since moved on from living with Tifa and Cloud, not wishing to be an unnecessary burden.

After moving out, he'd been so bold as to petition to join the fighting ranks of the W.R.O., but they'd turned him down for his too-young age. Reeve had informed Cloud shortly thereafter that Denzel had said he wanted to be "strong like Cloud". Deeply flattered and extremely proud of the kid, Cloud wondered if that's what fathers felt toward their sons on such occasions. On that day, he'd very seriously started to consider the prospect of making a real family with Tifa—not that what they had now wasn't good in its own right. It was peaceful; the best they'd ever had it, in fact. Although still tense from his brief loss of control over Fenrir's path, Cloud smiled warmly at the idea.

A real future, with normal plans and aspirations. Cloud finally believed in it, and truly desired it, and sometimes, he even allowed himself to think that he was good enough. His greatest regret was that he'd taken so long to make it to this point. However, he still planned on telling Denzel he was the bigger man, in spite of his decisively smaller and younger self. Such a noble, intelligent, brave person deserved it. Kids like him so often proved more resilient than even the strongest of fighters.

The burning hole left by the pain inflicted upon him, along with the fearful impression it left, subsided in the space of those thoughts. Gradually, his blurred vision returned to normal, letting Cloud see the puffs of white fog that billowed up from the warm concrete. The only sound that permeated the reality of the still night was the steady growl of Fenrir's engines and its tires on the asphalt. The trip was almost over, too. The covert W.R.O. lab where all these morose Deepground and ShinRa artifacts were being held and tested was only two miles out.

To the casual passerby, the entrance to the place looked like a small hunting cabin on the wild outskirts of Edge. However, beneath the façade, there lived an expansive facility where anything deemed potentially dangerous or useful was experimented upon, and destroyed if necessary. The W.R.O. always made press releases of its recent activities in that regard; the organization simply never disclosed this particular lab location. Reeve and a few other former ShinRa employees considered it too dangerous, when there were still plenty of emotionally charged political or rights groups who felt that they were personally entitled to look upon or ruin whatever ShinRa had created. Cloud also despised the level of secrecy at first, but now that he'd seen what they were dealing with, he couldn't be more accepting. This was the kind of thing that could result in massive outbreaks or public hysteria. In only a few moments, he would arrive, and rid himself of this Gaia-forsaken delivery. And give Reeve a long overdue lecture about why he shouldn't be the one to handle Jenova materials. How could the man forget? And why did he accept this delivery in the first place?

A few minutes, if the fog didn't get any thicker, that is. Randomly, he felt the front wheel catch on something slippery, sending him off course again, but he quickly corrected the error. Tonight was quite hazardous for this kind of trip. If this delivery wasn't what it was, he'd have never attempted it in the dark, and during foul weather. Another slick spot caught him off guard, and he struggled to regain control, nearly leaving the road more than once. It felt like a small oil spill, but he couldn't tell. Visibility was plain impossible right now. Whether puddles or oil or potholes, he was unusually prone to all of them. Yet, he'd handled much, much worse, and he was getting tired of playing games with the road. So, with a sudden confident start, Cloud regained some of his former speed, challenging the broken road to  _try_ to stop him. The sooner he got there, the sooner this dangerous journey would be over.

In seconds, the W.R.O.'s lab was within sight. As was something else—a petite silhouette in the fog. Cloud strained his eyes forward to see what it was, but lost track of exactly where it had appeared. Figuring it was a trick of the dim light and swirling fog, he did not alter his course. Upon emerging from the thick plume, however, the form reappeared, child-sized and human and dead ahead, way too close to avoid safely. But he surely wasn't about to risk running it over! Cloud veered sharply to the left at the last minute. Fenrir's back wheel collided with a broken highway divider, which threw the bike horribly off balance. Consequently, Cloud was tossed from his place. The landing impact dislocated his left shoulder, and rough, scalding pavement bit into his arm. Layers of skin shredded as he skidded along, and he shut his eyes to the incoming assault of pain. In the grand scheme of things, it was a small matter. He'd simply heal and see what was left of Fenrir once he came to a complete stop. The greater concern was that the delivery was still intact and well contained.

"Damn…"

The last thing anyone needed was for Jenova's blood to leak into some old sewage lines. Huffing and cringing, Cloud pressed the palm of his right hand to the ground, gingerly pushing himself upright, a relieved sigh escaping his teeth when he saw that the package was safe, still strapped securely to Fenrir's mangled seat. The motorcycle was another story, unfortunately. Pulling himself together, he drew a deep breath, and turned to inspect the wreckage.

But what happened next, Cloud could not explain; could have never predicted. Something—some brute, invisible force vaulted him up from the ground, hurtling him toward an old, twisted light pole. He fought to gain his balance, to keep his feet planted, but gravity seemed to work in reverse. Cold pressure resisted his efforts from behind, and Cloud perceived he might be under attack, although he could see nothing and no one. What kind of monster was this? He kicked and flailed, hoping to make contact with his assailant, but there was only cold air. A pocket of freezing fog suspended him; it felt like sharp little needles of ice had smashed into his back and legs and coursed through his upper torso.

There was little time to ponder the malevolent entity though, because he saw that a sharp spike of metal protruded from the beaten-up fixture, aimed almost directly at his sternum. He scarcely had a second to inhale or scream, and the protrusion cut through him, entrapping him; fatally mounting him against the steely, narrow surface.

Deeply perforated, Cloud's heart struggled to continue beating, and he tasted blood. Barely able to breath, he choked and heaved in weak, hoarse gasps. Warm, sticky fluid oozed down his chest and stomach, and dizziness quickly overtook him. No strength was left in him now; it had been savagely torn away in the last few microseconds. At first, Cloud could not muster the will to push himself away from the pole, knowing that it would tear the wound open completely, and he'd die. Moments passed, growing hazier and less coherent, and he pressed his forehead against the cool metal, small tears escaping the corners of his eyes. It didn't matter. No one would find him out here in time to help. He was finished either way.

He'd done the best he could, hadn't he? He'd protected those he loved, he'd put himself on the line when it counted the most, but was it enough? In his fast-fading mind, Cloud grasped for some comforting thought, some answer to those burdensome questions, but found only the tortured grief suddenly flooding his heart. He would never see any of them again. Neither Tifa, nor Marlene, nor Denzel. No one from his AVALANCHE days, either. Something horrible was in the making, Cloud had no doubt, but unless someone from the W.R.O. decided to fill Tifa in, she'd be left clueless and completely unprepared for the battle that was coming.

But more than just leading the battles, his greatest regret was simply that he'd not see Tifa. He could have, too. He should have turned aside, for just a moment, but he'd allowed his fear of the delivery overwhelm him. He hated himself for all the troubles he'd put her through and resented it even more that just when he was really starting to pull himself together,  _this_  had to happen. And he was scared, because he couldn't protect her from whatever had thrown him up here. A force unlike anything—almost unlike anything he'd ever experienced: cruel, torturous, decisive, and cold. Perhaps he might intercede, if Gaia allowed him to retain a will beyond this life, as it had with Zack and Aerith. Only if he could, but there was no way to tell.

Mustering up the last ounce of strength he had, Cloud pushed off from the light pole, landing hard and awkward on the pavement. As expected, blood gushed freely from where he'd been impaled, and the world spun in blinding light, in spite of the darkness. Mysteriously, he could no longer feel the pain. A brief memory of Zack's death flashed before him. The throes of death were like that for him, too—the body overcompensating for agony in a rush of defensive neurochemistry, while the spirit broke its bonds with the body, giving up its will to the flow of Lifestream. Cloud stared blankly up at the sky overhead, at the few twinkling stars whose light broke through the mist, feeling almost euphoric. It wasn't so bad, after all. Maybe it was okay to accept this; maybe it was alright just to close his eyes, and let it happen. Cloud convulsed, and he choked on his last breath, reminded too late of the most critical reason he would much rather remain.

" _Tifa…"_

And he died. Cloud Strife was dead.

* * *

 

Tifa coughed hard, a harsh chill pouring over her tired, hunched form as she sipped from a cup of strong coffee. Cloud should have been home by now. It was two in the morning. Over the past half hour, she'd called him five times, but to no avail. Cloud was bad about answering his phone sometimes, but not  _this_ bad, especially not as of late. Actually, he'd seemed more alive, lucid, and determined than ever. Failing that, she'd called upon Reeve, who, much to her surprise, was also still very much awake, still awaiting Cloud's last delivery. Something was clearly not right.

Vincent and Reeve had gone out to look for him then, telling her that they'd report back to Seventh Heaven with whatever they did or didn't find. She chose to stay, in case Cloud wandered in. And wait she did, wondering what might have gone so wrong, but also trying so hard not to imagine what it might be.

The cold sensation refused to leave her, gripping her harder, turning into a heavy ache at the back of her throat. Horrific news of any kind wouldn't surprise her, but Tifa wanted nothing more than for this to be a huge misunderstanding; an awful false alarm. Even if Cloud walked in through the front door completely wasted, it would be better than the possibilities she was beginning to suspect. Not that he ever had, but her mind was grasping at straws. Any alternative to being severely hurt or worse was more than welcomed.

Again, Tifa found herself moving listlessly about the room, pacing and losing patience. What had come over her, that she hadn't gone out to look for Cloud herself by now? What would she do if he did actually come home anyway? Lecture him? Cry like a child, and hug him until he suffocated? Carry his heavy ass up to bed? Regardless of how she'd react upon seeing him again, all of those possibilities could wait. Since when did she take the orders of others to patiently wait? _Never._ Not when and where it counted, at any rate.

Rabidly, Tifa stalked toward the door, violently flinging it open. She didn't get far. Reeve was stepping out of a W.R.O. van, with Vincent in tow.

"Did you find him?" Tifa plead, glancing over their shoulders, hoping desperately to catch a glimpse of Cloud. He wasn't there.

Vincent glanced off to the side, lost for what to say—or rather, for a delicate way to say what needed to be said. Reeve cleared his throat, crossing his hands. "Yes. We did, we did. Let's go inside," he replied calmly, yet somberly.

"No..no, where is he? Is he alright?" she persisted, speaking softer for the sickly anxiety creeping in on her.

Knowing Tifa, Vincent understood that they'd not be going back in without an answer. "There was a motorcycle accident outside the lab. Cloud did not survive," he said evenly, his tone low and negotiating. "It's probably best that you don't see the body. At least, not yet." In the back of the van, they'd wrapped up Cloud's corpse in a sanitary black body bag, but that didn't staunch the flow of blood, or lessen the appearance of his wounds. There was no reason to let Tifa see that, even if she'd dealt with worse.

Tifa's head dropped, and mysteriously, she lacked the urge to cry. She only felt numb, and suddenly fatigued. Her arms and legs weighed her down, and she blinked vacantly. This didn't feel real, although she knew better. Taking in Reeve and Vincent's expressions, she knew they were just as stunned by this as well. Maybe not as deeply hurt, but they were all friends or family in one sense or another. Reeve was lost for words, and idly stood, arms crossed. Vincent continued to stare her down, waiting to see what she'd do. Even if Tifa needed to break down, she'd make a choice. She was just as much a leader as Cloud had been, at least at heart.

When it grew too quiet, Tifa nodded, and turned to go back inside, wordlessly leaving the door open to invite them in. "I'm…tired," she stated, matter-of-factly. She wasn't going to torture herself with needless denial, but that didn't prevent this from feeling utterly surreal.

Cloud had survived  _so much._ Fight after bitter, seemingly endless fight. Scientific experiments. Sephiroth, three times. Falling into Lifestream. If he was going to die, it would have been more believable that something much more catastrophic than a highway accident was the cause. Nothing about this sat right with her, and before she could check herself, her blood boiled over.

Someone had to answer for this! Someone who knew— _who knew—_ and was responsible for the job Cloud was supposed to have done tonight. How convenient that someone was right before her.

Reeve's jaw dropped open, not only from shock, but because he'd been punched squarely in the face. Backed against the wall, he stared down at a possessed, grieving woman holding him pinned a full foot above the floor. "What-WHAT was so damn important that he had to be out this late?! Why couldn't it wait, Reeve?!"

"Tifa, let him down," Vincent commanded, calm and maintaining a safe distance, but ready to intervene if she left him no other option. "We'll explain everything."

White knuckled and nearly hyperventilating, Tifa lessened her grip on Reeve's collar, and released him, stepping back slowly. Twin trails of tears slid down her reddened cheeks, and she plopped down at the bar, pouring herself a shot. She didn't even read the bottle. It was a numbing agent at this point. That's all that mattered. The strong liquor burned down her throat—probably Vodka-but she didn't taste it. "So…tell me…What did Cloud die for?" she asked bitterly.

Straightening himself and grimacing at a tear in his shirt left by Tifa's attack, Reeve sighed. There was no point in mincing words. Not that long ago, Cloud  _did_  mention something about not knowing how to tell Tifa everything about his deliveries as of late. "A large cache of Jenova Project related items—"

"Fuck no…" she spat upon hearing 'Jenova', feeling the effects of the booze already, although perhaps not as she wished. It was ironic, that even now, she was relieved that there were no children here this evening to hear her say that.

"—was discovered in Midgar. Alien blood, to be precise. More than enough to initiate a Reunion, given the proper hosts. We wanted to get it into containment as quickly as possible."

Her mind burned, her hands shook, and her mouth grew parched. And then, she laughed. Tifa laughed, hard and emphatic and maniacal, swiping away the next batch of tears. So, there was really no one to blame? At least, there was no one concrete and nameable. Jenova? All that was left of the creature was parts. Bits, pieces, and sludge alone surely couldn't plan, scheme and premeditate, and most importantly,  _attack and kill._  Not without a formidable puppet master to harness the parts' power…but there was no proof. Tifa refused to consider that possibility seriously. She didn't have the mental capacity to handle it right now. Dredging up that infamous name would be little more than a convenient scapegoat anyway. Very convenient, but not wise.

"It never ends, does it?" she slurred, decisively pouring another shot, making sure it was something even stronger this time. The fact that she could see straight was suddenly bothersome. "Any silver-haired, cat-eyed monsters roaming the streets?" she almost giggled as she spoke, tossing back somewhere around the fifth or sixth helping.

"We've seen no one…but, there's been a new Geostigma outbreak. This strain kills quicker," Vincent affirmed, choosing to leave out the more gruesome details, and casting Reeve a look that told him they'd said quite enough. The full bottle in front of Tifa promised that she'd have more than one too many if they kept it up. Settling beside her, he helped himself to it, if for no other reason than to keep her from polishing it off alone.

Reeve, on the other hand, was not generally a drinker, save for celebratory occasions, and this was certainly not one of them. The bleakness of the situation; the outright foreboding, couldn't be understated. But before he could start to feel awkward being the only one sober, a quick beep from his cell alerted him to an urgent message from the lab. Two more aggressive Geostigma cases had passed away.

"Looks like there's been two more," Reeve noted tiredly, folding the phone away into his vest pocket. Contrary to his nonchalance, he cared. In fact, it scared him, but it was so very late.

Vincent merely nodded in acknowledgment, and returned his attention to Tifa, who now had her forehead planted against the counter's cool surface, half spaced out.

Silently, disgusted with herself, she shoved the empty shot glass away. This was hardly the right way to cope, but she didn't know which way was up for her shocked emotions alone, and she'd acted rashly. The last time she'd lost anyone that close was Nibelheim. The days following that were a blur of healing, harsh training, and overworking, at least up until she'd joined AVALANCHE. And then, Cloud had turned up, albeit a very mentally broken Cloud.  _Cloud._  Tifa sniffled. It hurt just thinking his name.

She was never going to see him again, save for one last glimpse of his shell. Never again. Lifestream would consume his soul, if Gaia had no other purpose for him. Not even his consciousness would remain, in spite of all he'd done to help the Planet. Nothing could save the smallest part of him now, except for memories. Mere memories; mental images that would decay and blur with the passage of time. A time might come when she'd have to remind herself of what Cloud looked like, when she'd have to pull out their old photos and burn them into her mind once again. It felt like thick layers of her soul had been forcefully peeled away and set aside to wither before their time.

What the hell was she supposed to do without him? Survive. Survive—but the difference between simple survival and honestly fighting to live was far too perceptible at the moment. Survive. Just survive. Keep breathing. Keep existing. There was still a battle to be fought, and it wasn't counting on Cloud being here to fight it. Tifa lifted herself then, a little dizzy. Survival required fighting, didn't it? And she definitely had a cause; an implied a desire to live. Her mind was going far too fast and waxing way too philosophical for how sleepy she was feeling. But one last question plagued her.

"Vincent…was it really an accident?"

Reeve shuffled over to sit on Tifa's other side. "The scene was messy. We can't be sure. All we really know is that a crash was involved," he answered in Vincent's stead.

"It started out as one, at least," Vincent supplied, but appeared deep in thought with that assessment, his crimson eyes boring a hole into the counter. "He did sustain some unusual injuries."

"I guess…I'll have to find out later." Hiccuping, Tifa rose on wobbly feet. The drinks had gone straight to her head. "Goodnight…you can go or stay…" she murmured, and slowly forced herself upstairs to her room. Although it was probably the most stupid thing she could have done, she was hoping that the excessive amount of alcohol might keep her from dreaming.

Downstairs, the door clicked shut, and soon after, the van they'd arrived in started up and sped away. Of course they'd have to leave. Cloud was probably with them after all, Tifa bitterly mused before succumbing to the combination of liquor and exhaustion.

 


	3. Living Legacy

 

On a steep cliff outside the valley that housed Edge and Midgar, a rusted relic of SOLDIER stood once more, proud against the passage of time and wear of the elements. Passed down from the highest ranks of ShinRa's military, to Zack, it ultimately found a permanent home with Cloud, who at the time was little more than a boy who'd bitten off more than he could chew. A small patch of yellow wildflowers had blossomed at its base, glorifying the memorial to the legacy of its former wielders.

This sunny, breezy afternoon, that sword would be reunited with that same boy, who had turned out to be the most capable and noble of its wielders. At its foot, a deep grave had been dug for Gaia's last hero. At first, when word of his death spread, it seemed that half the W.R.O. might show up. But Tifa begged Reeve to insist on a private funeral. Thus, the only outsiders remotely welcomed were a few old ShinRa members who'd eventually helped AVALANCHE fight, including the Turks, and Rufus himself. Not that they'd been formally invited; Rufus simply insisted on their presence. As shot as Tifa's will to argue with them was, Reno only had to put on his sad face on behalf of his boss and the others, and she'd conceded. In the end, it was probably appropriate that they get to see him one more time, as a reminder that in his efforts to help clean up ShinRa's mess, it had cost Cloud his life. At least, that was how she justified it to herself.

Now she stood at the foot of the hole, staring down at the body of her beloved. To the right of the pit were Yuffie, Cid, Shera, Barret, Marlene, Denzel, and Nanaki; to the left, Reno, Rude, Tseng, Elena, Rufus, Vincent, and Reeve. Yuffie and Marlene sniffled together, yanking mercilessly at Tifa's heartstrings. Although a child, Marlene rarely cried. Barret grunted and cleared his throat every so often, shifting uneasily in place, while Nanaki bowed his furry head in reverence. Cid and Shera mumbled between themselves, and even now, he could hardly keep the slew of curses from pouring out.

"The kid got himself into it this time, didn't he? Dumb little fucker!"

"Cid, Cid…please…"

"Oh. Right."

The Turks and Shinra talked quietly, while Vincent and Reeve seemed intensely focused on other matters. Something had them quite worked up, but finding out what would have to wait. She probably already knew what it was. Tifa squirmed slightly when she saw Rufus' gaze travel to her direction in between chatter, his brows knitted in sincere concern. The man was practically a secondary villain. It was merely circumstance that had prevented him from doing much worse than he and his company had; fate preferring to offer him a hard-learned lesson. From what she'd heard, although he made a full recovery from Geostigma, he suffered permanent nerve damage from the illness. The man would be served daily, painful reminders in his hands and head for the rest of his life. Maybe she shouldn't be so disgusted after all? There was a fine line between the desire for justice and holding an interminable grudge. The latter was pointless, especially now that they were all just doing their best to carry on.

Returning her thoughts to Cloud, she noted how well he'd been mended for today, after the autopsy. Eyes closed in an appearance of peaceful slumber, and hands folded over his stomach, no evidence of the fatal wounds he'd received two weeks ago remained. A foolish mental image trespassed Tifa's self-enforced silence then. She saw herself leap down into the grave, and wake Cloud from his deep sleep, with the two of them emerging triumphantly to their friends, announcing to the world that this whole ordeal had been nothing but one colossal misunderstanding.

A wistful, shaky sigh escaped her throat, and she blinked hard to keep from crying. Once she let even a single tear drop, that would be it. She'd break down shamelessly in front of everyone, screaming so loud that it would probably scare Marlene and Denzel. It was one thing to weep and grieve quietly, but the lamenting she had in store required a certain measure of privacy. Straightening her posture, she chose to stare dead ahead at the old buster sword instead. She analyzed and memorized each notch and rusted pattern, considered the angle at which the sword tended to strike its enemies, reminded herself that the blunt side could be just as useful.

These were not just mere musings. After Vincent stopped Omega, she and Cloud had made a hobby of light-core sparring, to keep their skill sharp "just in case". She'd taught him some basic martial arts, and he'd trained her to be a worthy novice of a swordswoman. Had he lived, she would have tried her hand at dual wielding for the first time today. As serious as those sessions were supposed to be, they'd actually been a lot of fun. Also, Tifa couldn't recall another time when they'd been closer. It was then that Cloud had really, really opened up to her. Something about  _not_ fighting for their lives made it unusually entertaining, yet intimately sacred.

Tifa choked back a laugh, recalling the first time Cloud fell flat on his ass for a failed kick. Another broken sigh followed, as she traced a small scar on her arm where she'd fumbled the sword and cut herself. He'd tenderly mended it, gently wrapping the stinging, offended skin. For a moment, the graveside vigil faded from eyesight, and she felt his calloused hands working on her arm again, studying it in the dim kitchen light, dabbing carefully at the remaining blood flow.

" _It's not as bad as it looks. It might hurt for a while, though."_

But time only afforded that slightest of moments, before she remembered where and when she was, and that her hands had developed similar rough patches. She was only pacifying herself.

Rufus was the first to have the nerve to speak, interrupting Tifa's disappointed reverie. "In SOLDIER, men fought battles with naive dreams of becoming heroes. They took orders, and carried them out, often to the detriment of the very loved ones they'd joined to protect. Yet, the true fighters always seemed to defect, continuing on their fight. Cloud embodied this courage, following in the unforgotten footsteps of his superior officer. A legacy of honor, indeed, and a tragedy that we must bid him farewell."

Silence ensued upon his short speech, but for the nodding of a few heads, and the Turks' dull approval.

"Nice going, boss," Reno half-sneered, sounding as humble and reverent of the situation as he could pull off, while Rude straightened his tie, clearing his throat. They could always count on Rufus to be totally shameless.

For everyone else, there wasn't anything else to say to that. No one doubted Rufus' sincerity, but it was cold, formal, and political all the same. Cid didn't try to hide the roll of his eyes, and the other former AVALANCHE members fidgeting uneasily. Yet, it was true to the spirit of Cloud's love-hate relationship with the leftovers of ShinRa, so no one openly objected.

"Cloud…he was our best friend," Denzel murmured, just barely above a whisper. The preteen swiped nervously at his face, not wanting anyone to see him looking like too much of a baby.

"Cloud was family!" Marlene tearfully proclaimed, moving to hug Denzel. The boy nearly tripped forward at the impact of the younger girl on his back.

"Damn straight, Marlene! Spiky  _was_  family!" Barrett rubbed at his reddened eyes with his good hand, squinting in frustration.

Yuffie wept, unapologetically laughing at the same time. "Like a supreme pain in the ass adopted older brother!"

Cid said nothing for several seconds, lighting up a cigarette. Stomping over to the buster sword with an old lance in hand, he firmly shoved the battered weapon into the ground next to it. "Could use some company…shit…" he muttered to himself, hating just how emotional this whole thing was making him. Shera would never let him live it down.

Nanaki padded to join his side, draping a simple head dress around the lance's handle with his fangs, and howled softly. Yuffie followed last, dropping a rare materia into the grave. Then, hesitantly, Marlene untied the pink ribbon from her hair, and handed it off to Tifa. On stiff, numb legs, she approached the newly elaborated memorial, and tied it securely around the buster sword's handle.

"Take care of him for me, okay?" Tifa whispered, fingers lingering on the pink cloth.

Hours of somber chatter passed, and slowly, deciding there was nothing left for them to do or say, everyone departed Cloud's gravesite, until only Tifa, Yuffie, Vincent, and Reeve remained. Beyond the ruins of Midgar, the sun was setting, its rays glinting off the steel and mythril surfaces of the weapons. Streams of cirrostratus clouds followed in its wake, as giant feathers floating across the sky. Tifa concentrated on that scenery, all but chewing her lower lip off while the other three took to the grim task of burying Cloud. When they were finally finished, she sat cross-legged in front of the small mound of soil, bleary-eyed from fighting the urge to cry all day.

Reeve gently touched Tifa's shoulder, hoping he wouldn't upset her by disturbing her pensive trance. "Before we go, there's something Cloud wanted me to give to you, if something like this happened before he could do it himself."

Comically struggling, Yuffie hauled an almost too heavy object over, wrapped in a loose, white cloth. Reaching the foot of the tomb, she gladly handed it over to Vincent, and Tifa stood, curious. He held it out to her, and as soon as she touched it, she knew what it was, and ripped away the shroud.

"Vincent, Reeve…I don't know what to do with this…" Tifa protested, taking the sword in spite of herself. It was true that her training with Cloud had finally reached a certain pinnacle, but that didn't quell her fears that she was more likely to hurt herself than any foes with  _that_  blade. A basic katana or even something like the Buster Sword was fine, but First Tsurugi was simply not for novices like her!

"Oh yeah you do!" Yuffie retorted, butting in. "From now on, you can spar with me. No offense to Cloud and all, but you need the help of a real pro! Just…no chopping off my arms or anything, and I'm not sure, but I think there might be a small materia fee. You know how it goes. I kick a few bad guys' asses, and half the kids in Wutai want to call me 'master'. Can't say I blame them—"

"At any rate, this is what Cloud wanted. They're yours now," Vincent cut back in, doing his best to interrupt and ignore Yuffie's badly timed humor.

Tifa forced a halfhearted smirk for Yuffie's sake, while Reeve took it upon himself to distract her from saying anything worse. She knew the younger woman meant well, even if everything she'd said was entirely in bad taste. Had she been five years younger, she'd have probably wasted no time searching Cloud's body for materia to pilfer, rather than leaving one in memoriam.

Returning her attention to the buster sword, she called to mind the time Cloud reluctantly admitted he could barely lift it when Zack first gave it to him. Granted, he'd been suffering from a horrific bout of Mako poisoning at the time, but either way, Tifa could at least say that with First Tsurugi, she was a little better off than that. The fact stood, stark and unmoving: If Cloud had been willing to try back then, when it was a struggle just to remember his own name, then she had to do it for him, now. "I'll fight for both of us, then…" she choked, allowing herself to weep at last.

Tifa had predicted that by the day's end, her solemn guard would collapse, and come crashing down under the weight of her grief. And she was right, but she didn't lose control as she thought she might. Holding the weapon bequeathed to her, the burden felt somehow lighter. In this moment, she was gifted, made the appointed keeper of Cloud's memory and strength. She was to persevere in his place, arise wherever adversaries might seek to harm all they'd known and loved. It would be her hands and his soul. Their souls were still bound together, in truth. For now, she could hold onto that precious sliver of what Cloud was, and let it express itself vicariously through her.

* * *

 

"TEN? Teeeen? Ten more?" Yuffie squawked, her dark eyes widening in disbelief. Up until now, the day had been drab, slow, and sullen, and appropriately so. Tifa seemed like she'd be okay, so when she requested some time alone with Cloud, they'd willingly set out for Edge, the three of them cramming into Reeve's small truck. (Yuffie had complained endlessly on his choice of vehicle for the trip, but he insisted that this one was best for the necessary off-road path they'd take.)

All of that changed when Reeve announced what he and Vincent had been whispering so animatedly about during Cloud's funeral. "Unfortunately, yes. We have no positive ID on the bodies. The clean-up team wasn't left with much to work with."

"It's getting worse," Vincent coolly observed. "We saw the same number all of last week."

It was rare for Yuffie to fall silent without being coerced into doing so, but this simply unsettled the girl. There was no math to do, figuratively speaking. Geostigma meant that Jenova was on the move. Aggressive as this strain was, anyone who knew about it could only hold their breath and await the macabre end game. "They keep dying so close together. Like, in groups," She stated, but it was more of a question.

"The Reunion Instinct. Jenova dominates their bodies as a virus, but they can't tolerate it enough to stay alive, and they degrade before Reunion can actually occur," Vincent explained. "What happens if there's a stronger group of hosts…I'd rather not say. We already know."

Groaning, Yuffie leaned her head against Reeve's shoulder, subconsciously hoping to annoy him. No matter how serious the situation, the man seemed to have the longest fuse in all of Gaia. Not even Aerith could compete, if she were still around. As usual, he only sighed, and just let her be. "Cloud sure chose a  _great_  time to kick the bucket," she supplied, flippantly.

With that, Reeve shrugged her off of him, lightly sighing. "Speaking of which-We need to give Tifa some time before telling her, but Cloud's death was not an accident. The autopsy revealed several artery ruptures in his upper torso and legs, in addition to whatever happened to throw him at the light pole…"

"Ouch. But how does that prove it wasn't an accident?" Yuffie inquired, slightly nauseated, involuntarily imagining how painful it must have been for Cloud.

"Each one was exactly aligned with the scars from his last battle with Sephiroth. The ruptures occurred internally, but the pattern is there," Reeve finished.

Squirming in disgust, Yuffie scooted closer to Vincent. Damn this truck for having such a small seat! "Gross! You can stop talking now…Gawd…" Then, the importance of what he was saying registered. "You're not suggesting…that Sephiroth is BACK? Again? No way! What is he, a cat? Does he get nine lives or something? That's not even fair!"

"Unlikely, but whatever did that to Cloud knew exactly where it wanted to strike. All we know for sure is that he was murdered. Possibly by a Remnant, although no one's seen anything yet," Vincent countered, albeit rather unconfidently. There were some strong theories, and a few coincidences that were too convenient, but nothing known for sure. As it stood, not even the heinous nature of Cloud's death could reasonably assure that the resurgence of Geostigma was not of a variety assimilated to Gaia's natural flow. But the evidence of Reunion, on the other hand, did just that. Did that have to mean it was directly connected to Cloud's murder?

"Eww. More larvae," Yuffie whined. "Doesn't that guy ever give up?"

Perturbed stillness consumed the vehicle. What, exactly, would it take to end the Reunions? According to a study done on Geostigma at Cosmo Canyon, when people with the malady died, their spirit energy added to the taint corroding the Lifestream, making the Planet weaker and sicker. The bloodcurdling reality was that, deep within, a fierce war was being waged for dominance over Gaia's total consciousness. Time had now revealed that even Aerith's holy rain had only briefly alleviated the physical, living realm.

Vincent stared apprehensively out the window at the passing Midgar wastelands. There was something Lucrecia had once bemoaned, that because of Jenova's overwhelming presence in her body, she could  _never_  truly die. And, the woman had  _tried._ With all her scientific and planetary knowledge, she had fought desperately for the right to cease, and she'd suffered a very decisive loss. So, she did with herself as the W.R.O. now did with anything they found of Jenova. She locked herself away in stasis, for rest and self-punishment, and presumably, for the safety of others around. To this very day, it was the closest to death she'd ever managed to force her body to come. Vincent's mission against Deepground, and consequently, his association with Shelke had helped her deep sleep be less fitful, but she remained.

That's how it was with the Cetra, as well. They were never able to destroy Jenova; only seal it away, and that effort alone drove all but the last nail into their collective coffin.

Mentally exhausted for the moment, the irrational notion crept into Vincent's mind that Jenova was not just a ruthless extraterrestrial. The malevolent creature was a demon or some kind of evil goddess, come to exact revenge on anything that reminded her of from whence she'd fallen. A small, exasperated groan found its way into his throat then. How foolish and superstitious of him. No, Jenova was an intelligent, parasitic virus. Nothing more and certainly nothing less. Viruses and parasites are especially able to evolve and adapt to changing environments. How much more so that had to hold true for a being that was a hybrid of both.

Chances were, Gaia was almost successful in healing last time. Then, there was that twisted, ghastly debacle with Hojo, the Tsviets, Chaos, and Omega, and the Lifestream as a whole just had to be dragged along for that ride. Actually, overloading the Lifestream was the point. The Planet itself was the main victim. Perhaps that had disturbed the recovery process? Too bad "almost" wasn't good enough.

"Not again. You've got that look…" Yuffie poked tiredly at Vincent, stealing his attention. He was surprised to see how exhausted even she appeared. "Come on, don't tell me you're looking for some way to blame yourself for this too. You know, now that I think about it…you and Cloud aren't all that different. Weren't all that different, I mean…This sucks…"

"That it does," Vincent agreed quietly, withholding a slight chuckle at her expense.

"Do you think that maybe…Maybe the Planet needed Cloud more in the Lifestream? Maybe that's why it happened like this?" Yuffie speculated, assuaging her guilty conscience with thoughts of Cloud kicking ass and taking name like never before in the hereafter.

"Perhaps."

Reeve said nothing, but reflexively gripped the steering wheel a little harder. Not even the typical, innocent, mournful musings of a more worthy purpose in the great beyond seemed to bode well. What could it mean, if Gaia really was  _purposely_  bringing home her living allies? It was supposed to be a comforting notion, but this one time, it was just another blunt warning sign; another symptom of a desperate world fighting for its life and losing.

But it was all speculation; frightened, paranoid speculation. A hard, jaw-cracking yawn reminded Reeve of how little he'd been sleeping as of late. Every night was interrupted with messages or urgent phone calls about the next few Geostigma deaths. Tonight, he'd have to turn off the phone and force himself to sleep. Otherwise, his normally calm, realistic vice-grip on the matters at hand would begin to slip, if it hadn't already.

Speaking of sleep, Yuffie had her head nestled against his shoulder once again, settled in for napping the rest of the drive back. A small, wet drool patch forming there let him know that she wasn't going to be moved anytime soon. To her right, Vincent crossed his arms over his chest, and reposed with his head slightly drooped. The only thing missing was an obnoxious snore from either one of them.

It was then that Reeve felt safe again. The last time Gaia was in mortal danger, Cloud merely fought along the sidelines. The friends snoozing beside him were the ones who'd taken to the task that time. The cruel manner in which Cloud had died, rather than the fact that he was gone at all, is what put him the most ill at ease. Once Tifa knew of it, he was sure she'd be out for blood.

No, there was no shortage of willing and able fighters. The problem was the same as always; for every battle won, another appeared just over the horizon, inevitably more sacrificial than the last. Cloud's death served to drive that point home quiet poignantly.

There had to be some way— _any_ way-to make it stop for good. The price of fighting could only rise so high before the cost was ultimately a loss for everyone.

 


	4. Tabula Rasa

" _Mother!"_

Tifa shot up in bed, covering her mouth in disdain, while ripping the covers away. Ever since they'd buried Cloud, about two weeks ago, she'd been having these disturbing dreams. One that kept repeating was that, instead of the orphans, Kadaj and his brothers kidnapped her. They infected her with Jenova's cells; a great deal of it. They restrained her, treating her again and again with black water and Mako injections. Finally, it would all overwhelm her, and she would break, giving into mental death. After that, the Remnants were no longer her captors or tormentors. They were her brothers, and they were counting on her. She was their eldest sister, and she knew what she had to do. But always, despondency would enslave her in the dream's last moments. Like her brothers, she didn't really know where Mother might be…she was letting them down…

Swinging her feet over the edge of the bed, Tifa cursed, and lightly slapped both of her cheeks. For one, she'd never, ever do anything like that. She'd gladly die before becoming a willing Jenova puppet. Two, her subconscious mind was apparently in need of a long-overdue reality check, because even amongst her most intimate and embarrassing longings,  _that_  was certainly not one of them. Realistically, in dealing with both Cloud's passing and the search for a solution to the new Geostigma crisis, some dark, horrified corner of her mind simply felt pressured to offer surrender as a viable option. Deep down, a part of her wanted to believe that all the battles were his, and that with his passing, they'd just stop. He was dead. Game over, right? Tifa groaned in severe distaste. How naive. A heavy day of training should help her sort that out, she believed.

A languid stretch later, Tifa stood and dressed. She was up for a special challenge today, she decided, taking First Tsurugi from the corner of her room, and donning its cloth sheath on her back. When she saw herself in the mirror, she did a slight double-take. With the sword, in her peripheral vision, she could have sworn that Cloud's image had reflected back instead. Looking directly at herself, nothing was out of place, but she gently touched the mirror's surface just to be sure.

"Don't worry, Cloud," she softly whispered. "I'll be alright." As long as she wasn't severely delusional, that is. So long as the delusions remained slight and reassuring like this, it wasn't a problem. There was nothing wrong with remembering him so vividly.

Feeling foolish, yet awkwardly comforted, she left for the Midgar wastes. Over the past week, she'd tested her capability with the fusion swords in a training room she and Cloud had built in the back of Seventh Heaven. Handling the weapon proved not impossible, but something akin to a complex dance; one that constantly changed depending on what was being thrown her way. She managed to avoid the self-injury she'd feared, but there were several gashes and holes in the training room's walls that needed repaired now. Confident that she could at least best a few lesser monsters, Tifa sought out live prey today. If she happened to slice a few boulders in half in the process, no one would complain.

When she finally reached the barren plain, Tifa inhaled deeply, closing her eyes to dim her senses for the moment. On the way here, she'd pretended that she was simply running an errand. That's right—she was just taking the swords to be cleaned or sharpened.  _Lies_. She was here to use them. She was here to find out if she was ready to fight a real battle with them. Some poor, Mako-mutated fiend would be cut clean in half if all went as planned. If not, at worst, she'd simply have to drop the weapon and put the creature out of its misery the old-fashioned way, with her fists and feet.

Eyes still shut, Tifa loosened her mind from her false comforts. Instead, she focused on the delicate sounds of nature. The gusting wind, the scrape of tumbleweed and dust, the subtle flap of birds' wings, and most of all, she listened in for an interruption in those routine workings. She listened in closely for thumping paws, scratching claws, snapping teeth, growling and snarling; anything that would alert her to the presence of a monster willing to pick a fight.

Sparing little time, the sound soon emerged as quick, shuffling, feline paws running up from behind, accentuated by light, hungry panting. In a quick, fluid motion, she drew First Tsurugi, and turned to face the oncoming predator. From the unreserved way it pounced down on her position, she knew she must have looked defenseless to it. It was a huge, Mako-infected cat, complete with unsightly tentacles protruding from between its eyes and ears. Strong jaws and sharp teeth snapped for her neck, but Tifa managed to block the pounce, forcing the beast to clamp down on the blade instead. The force of the impact reverberated down through the blade, allowing her to feel what kind of strength the monster possessed. She wasn't expecting something this ferocious around here, but it was too late to back down now.

Tifa's pulse spiked, on the receiving end of an adrenaline burst. With a harsh jerk, she freed the sword from the cat's mouth, slicing its jaws, eliciting a feral snarl of protest. The wound was superficial, however, only serving to infuriate it further. Three tentacles flailed forward, stinging her shoulder, and light ochre ooze dripped from the point of contact. Leaping back, Tifa assumed a more defensive stance, and separated the swords.

Although stronger than she'd anticipated, it was just a basic Mako mutant. She didn't expect the beast to be able to leap nine feet into the air and over her head, but it did. Landing, a sharp claw that grew from the end of its prehensile tail gouged into the back of her left calf. A pained shriek escaped her throat, and she turned back on the monster, a swift hack separating the tail from the rest of its body. Her leg throbbed as she tried to maneuver, weighed down by the heavy appendage that was still firmly lodged in her thick, torn muscle.

The cat came after her with swiping paws next, intent on mauling her to death. Swift, the monster kept her so preoccupied with blocking and parrying that she could hardly find space to land an offensive blow. Sweat beaded on her forehead and neck, dripping down her face and back. This fight was turning out to be a tough one, enough to scare her a little. It had been far too long since her last sincere, to-the-death fight, and her formerly sharp reflexes had decayed considerably. But that was exactly why she was out here, sparring with the ugly creature.

Tiring, the feline monster backed off for a few seconds, pacing, looking for a weak spot, licking its chops and baring its fangs. Relief washed over Tifa—finally, an opening to attack! Ignoring her own fatigue, she mimicked the cat, pouncing forward, lunging at it with both swords. One missed, only barely clipping the fiend's ears and tentacles, while the other found a bloody, sinewy home in its front leg. Frustrated with her failure in precision, Tifa stood her ground, and plunged the free blade down through the beast's spine, cutting through to puncture a lung as well.

Big mistake.

Too concentrated and eager to end the cat's life, she didn't notice that, just as the sword punctured its back, it had sunk its teeth into her good leg, assailing a sensitive pressure point. When the monster collapsed, Tifa fell to her knees as well, her hands slipping and sliding in pools of blood left in the battle's wake. Pain that she'd been able to endure or shut out only seconds ago rushed in, and she dropped the fusion swords, rolling onto her back to take the pressure off of her injured legs.

Slowly, agonizingly, she sat up to inspect the wounds. The right calf was easy enough to take care of. A tightly bound strip of cloth, torn from her pants leg, served as a sufficient bandage. The other leg was more complicated. The cat's tail was still very much embedded by a hook-shaped claw. Obviously, she couldn't just leave it in there, but pulling it out would doubtless prove excruciating, not to mention how much blood she might lose.

That left her with one choice, and she hated to do it. Begrudgingly, Tifa unveiled a restorative materia. Materia, which would pull life energy from the Planet to the mend the deep injuries in her legs. A necessary evil, as long as there were battles to be fought, she reasoned. Yet, there was a reason she and the others had abandoned materia use for the most part. It wasn't nearly as heinous or greedy as Mako reactors, but it was the same in concept, stealing the Planet's energy for convenience's sake. And right now, dying of blood loss from sparring with a common Mako mutant was not convenient  _at all!_

Having struggled so hard to defeat such a basic monster left her embarrassed, even though no one was around to witness the humiliating scene. Involuntary tears broke from her eyes as she pried the tail out, casting it angrily aside. The gouge bled heavily, so she drew upon the materia's power right away, reducing the potentially fatal puncture to an itchy red spot. If it had been Cloud in this fight, Mr. Kitty would have been dead in a single, well-executed slash, regardless of its pre-emptive advantage.

Only now did it occur to Tifa that maybe Cloud had been going easy on her. The weapons they normally sparred with were relatively light in comparison to First Tsurugi, and aside from Cloud himself, the targets were never live. Finally confident that she could walk again, Tifa stood, collected both halves of the weapon, and began her shameful march back toward Edge. She was neither weak nor unskilled in battle, but she was certainly not ready to fight exactly as he had. This was a lesson in humility, she concluded. Even a fight with something "easy" could easily be forfeit in overconfidence. Just because she could have snapped the fiend's neck in two seconds as a martial artist didn't mean she could switch over to swordsmanship and expect the same results.

_The problem with her normal fighting style was that it left her relatively defenseless…defenseless to a six-foot blade in the hands of an expert wielder…completely open…_

Tifa shuddered violently. Was it really going to come to that? She hoped not, because it would take at least a few more years of training before she'd even begin to fantasize about winning that kind of fight. Frankly, she didn't want to have to think about it at all. Ever. Dragging her feet numbly down the alleyways of Edge, Tifa didn't notice the fresh tears that had leaked from her eyes, this time from sheer mental exhaustion. But as she lazily stumbled into her empty bar, and pushed herself up the stairs, the wall suddenly turned into her closest confidant.

"Cloud…" She whimpered, resting her hands and forehead against the cool, white surface.

The scent of blood and dirt wafted into her nostrils then, and she blinked back her grief. She needed a shower. And then, she'd need to start thinking about a plan. Going head to head with Jenova's monsters as Cloud had wasn't going to work for her. If she was left with no other choice in the end, she'd give it her all, but it probably wouldn't end well. Tifa admitted that she needed help to fight this one. As much as he tortured himself for it, Cloud always made the better lone wolf.

* * *

 

Reeve dialed Tifa's number for the third time. Of all the times for her to be unable to answer, now was probably the worst. Something they'd been looking for, but incredibly  _unusual_  had transpired at the W.R.O.'s orphanage in Kalm, where he currently was. No one was dead or dying, thankfully, for once. But for what was going on, he needed another's opinion; preferably someone good with kids. Tifa was excellent with children. She and Cloud had practically allowed their home to become a makeshift orphanage when the first Geostigma outbreak was at its peak.

"Tifa! It's Reeve….I know this is on short notice, but I need you to come to Kalm…Yes, the orphanage…Well, it's hard to explain. Better that you see for yourself…A monster attack?...That's unfortunate. Are you alright?...Good, good. I'll be waiting here."

* * *

 

For all the doubts Tifa harbored about the W.R.O., this was one thing she approved of unconditionally. The orphanage was probably the most upscale building in Kalm. A large, lush, green, fenced-in yard, complete with a huge playground surrounded a house that was just shy of a mansion in size. It blended in well with its surroundings, though, made of the same cream-colored drywall and deep brown wood, with the same design and shape as all the other buildings. A small group of little ones ran by, chasing each other around, giggling and screaming in play, barely noticing her presence.

"You're it!"

"Nuh-uh! You cheated! Cheater! Cheeeater!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not! Come on…"

Tifa hoped it wasn't too obvious what a rough day she'd already been having. Around children, she preferred to keep a cool, serene, collected air, especially with orphans. Few kids in Gaia were clueless to the dangers lurking around them, given the past several years, but that didn't give grown-ups like her a green light to be anything but strong for them. They needed to know, or at least have the right to hope, that someone would be there to chase the monsters and bad guys away. Or if nothing else, that someone would try.

She continued to watch them as she rang the doorbell, basking in the emotional reprieve they unknowingly gave her. Her fried nerves calmed, reminded that beyond the tiresome fighting and loss, there was still something good left. Even in his darkest depression, Cloud had loved the children they'd briefly cared for. Tifa couldn't help but feel downcast at the thought. There was no use in wondering what kind of family they might have raised anymore. It was simply not to be, no matter how easy it might be to imagine.

A husky matron in her mid-fifties finally answered the door, eying Tifa—dark clad and scratched up-in mild suspicion. "May I help you, miss?"

Tifa smiled slightly, cautiously initiating eye contact with the woman. "Mr. Tuesti asked me to meet him here. Has he stepped out?"

"Oh! How rude of me! Thank heavens—you must be that Lockhart woman he was prattling on about. Please, please, follow me. I hope you're as much help as he was saying you'd be, because I just don't know what to make of our newest resident. He's so….so odd…and, of course we want to help him. Of course we do, just like the other sprouts…." the woman spoke animatedly, but way too fast for coherency.

Tifa politely nodded and entered, more curious for the old lady's rapid-fire chatter. What kind of strange side project had Reeve suddenly taken an interest in here? Whatever it was, no one seemed particularly frightened; a little distressed and confused, maybe. It was more like they were trying to solve a complex puzzle and decided somewhere along the way that she'd be the perfect person to figure it out.

Up a flight of cherry oak stairs, and down a soft, red carpeted hall, Tifa trekked behind the bubbly matron, occasionally catching the sneaky stares of the youngest children. A young boy restrained his toddler sister when she giggled in delight, and tried to chase after Tifa on all fours, lured in by the long fish-tail of hair at her back.

"No, we're not a-posed' to go down to the room!" He whined, becoming more agitated when the girl let out a shrill wail.

The matron turned aside then, prying the kids apart. "Now, now. There's no need to handle her so harshly…Ms. Lockhart, go on ahead. Mr. Tuesti is waiting in the last room."

"Alright. Thank you…" Tifa smiled warmly, amused. In spite of the matron's bulky carriage and strong, bellowing voice, the kids really seemed to have a leg up on her.

At the hallway's end, behind the last door, Tifa discerned nothing but an occasional shuffle of feet, and a tiny sniffle. It occurred to her then that Reeve might be about to ask her to take care of a child. What if the man was trying too hard to keep her from becoming lonely? How in Gaia's name would she handle that discretely? How was she to politely turn down the offer, without giving some poor orphan the impression he wasn't wanted?

Finally pushing through, Tifa immediately saw just how wrong her initial suspicions were. This was very serious. Reeve stood, leaned against the back wall, minding a tiny boy, who was quietly coming down from a mini tantrum on the floor. She froze, hardly three steps in. He was so small, and so frail, and outright weak looking, but the child's platinum hair and pale complexion were enough to stop her musings cold. As if to crush any doubt, he looked up from his moping session, allowing Tifa to behold two wide, cyan feline eyes. Tifa's heart nearly stopped. Those were Jenova-Mako eyes, the mark of a Sephiroth Clone, or more likely, a Remnant, if not the man himself.

"Please, please, tell me where she is…" the kid sighed through his weeping, hugging himself. Absentmindedly, Tifa wondered how long he'd been like this. The little guy had clearly tired himself out. "…Mother. I need Mother…."

The boy's minuscule, weak voice brought Tifa back down from her oncoming horror, despite his pleas. Only slightly stalled by inner trepidation, Tifa approached, cautiously kneeling down, glancing up at Reeve for permission.

"Eden, we have a special guest. She came here just to see you," Reeve spoke to the child, breaking the shy trance he'd readily slipped into.

He paused in his sniffling, swiping lazily at his eyes with the backs of his long sleeves. Eden wasn't dressed in black leather battle armor as the others had been. The orphanage probably saw to that, although Tifa seriously doubted he was capable of much in a fight anyway. Baggy black jeans and a navy sweater literally swallowed his tiny form, at least two or three sizes too big for him. Eden was the most ironic picture of utter harmlessness she'd ever seen.

"Hey there, I'm Tifa," Pity held sway now, not fear. This boy was no one to be feared. He almost seemed to cringe within himself as she reached for him, his eyes glowing bright emerald, their hearts expanding into huge ovals. Fear was written all over his demure countenance, not malice. "It's okay. I won't hurt you," she reassured him.

Eden tensed visibly when Tifa gently took his small hand into hers but didn't resist rising to his feet. "Tifa…" He echoed her greeting, daring to look his strange visitor in the eyes. Between her tender face, her soft voice, and chocolate-drop gaze, he relaxed, if only marginally. "Do  _you_  know where Mother is…?" he finally hiccupped.

A small, helpless, scared child.

A Sephiroth Remnant.

Reality came crashing back down on Tifa in brutal clarity when he remained stubbornly insistent on that one question. If only in terms of instinct, this kid was in a desperate search for Jenova. Bad, horrible things could happen if he found what he was looking for. Incidentally, both she and Reeve knew the exact location of where the W.R.O. was keeping Jenova specimens. Could it really be a mere coincidence that Eden was here, in their care, and in the midst of a fresh Geostigma outbreak? No, it could not.

"I don't…" Tifa lied, perplexed about what to do. "But I promise we'll keep you safe, okay? Don't worry."

Eden's very nature appeared contradictory. A tiny, sweet, lonely orphan in need of love and comfort and care—yes, that was completely accurate. A Sephiroth Remnant at least biologically programmed to become "whole"—it would be equally damning to ignore the truth in that as well. Yet, Tifa couldn't overcome the misgivings she had about the little one's capacity to fulfill his purpose for the latter.

Three years ago, the Remnant trio of Kadaj, Loz, and Yazoo left no doubt of what they were and who they came from. They were strong, ruthless, agile, cunning, cruel, and sinister. To watch from the Sierra's bridge as Kadaj merged with Jenova's head, transforming almost instantly into Sephiroth, while nothing short of awful, was not surprising.

Eden, on the other hand, was just an innocent looking for his "Mother", probably clueless as to what he really even meant by that. An orphan in the truest sense, he'd never meet his parents. And as the boy grasped her hand and clung helplessly to her neck, once again in tears, Tifa was simply unable to reconcile the person before her with those who'd come in the past. He shared their appearance, but that was all. This little child could surely never turn into Sephiroth. He'd have to swallow everything the W.R.O. had collected of Jenova and then some to accomplish such a drastic transition. And before that could become a concern, he'd have to figure out how to get to all of it through layers upon layers of tight security.

Carefully, Tifa took Eden in her arms, and lifted him, getting a closer look at his face. Nervous, she heard him gasp slightly, before childish curiosity took over, and he reached for a lock of her hair to play with. She responded in kind, playfully ruffling the top of his head. The wounded, semi-bloodshot pink faded quickly from his big, beautiful Mako eyes. Really, he looked and acted like any other kid aside from that, with his baby-fat cheeks and his uncanny ability to jump from temper tantrum to idle play in a heartbeat. It was cute and a little annoying, but all in all, rather un-noteworthy.

"Eden, do you think you can tell Tifa where you came from?" Reeve took the boy's calm as a chance to do a little fact-finding, gently prodding. He'd asked the question before, but Eden was too upset and frightened to give a coherent answer.

This time, Eden simply shook his head in the negative, continuing to play with Tifa's hair, daring to tie a decidedly complex knot at the ends. For all their sake, Tifa hoped he wasn't keen to her temporarily panicked pulse. He didn't deserve to see that a big person held such intense reservations about him. "You can tell us," she reassured him.

"I…don't know." Eden swallowed hard, and a steady stream of tears escaped his eyes again. He seemed just as perplexed, if not more so, as they were. "But…Mother could tell me. She could…" And he buried his face in Tifa's shoulder, not wanting to look at Reeve's disapproving frown any longer. Larger sobs burst through, muffled, while Tifa tried to comfort him, lightly patting his back.

Reeve crossed his arms, very mildly frustrated. Eden was probably telling the truth after all. "He was found wandering around the same area Cloud was...found," he informed her, choosing delicate words for Eden's ears, and Tifa's still-fresh loss.

"Are there any others?" Tifa asked, her sense of compassion and qualms warring for ownership of the small form nestled in her arms.

"No. I'm surprised, considering Geostigma's advance. This is not exactly what we've been expecting, but we still need to exercise caution." Reeve let his gaze fall deliberately on Eden and sighed resignedly. "Before being released to the orphanage, Eden was given a medical exam. Nothing special, just a checkup and some blood work we require for the kids' safety. The results show he's in stable health, but he seems to have almost no memories, and he tested positive for the new strain, despite being asymptomatic. A secondary test revealed that, while he's certainly not contagious, our little one seems to enjoy a fully symbiotic relationship with it."

So, Eden really was, beyond argument, a Sephiroth Remnant, with a full medical profile to prove it. Tifa didn't recoil as she thought she might; in fact, she felt even sorrier for him, if that were even possible. She regretted the fact that, even if he never posed a direct threat to anyone, he'd probably always be eyed with dread and suspicion. She felt it tragic that the boy would never meet any real relatives, and that making friends would prove exceedingly difficult for his appearance alone. And she feared for him, because one day, his origins might get the better of him, whether he wanted them to or not, and then, he'd have to meet his end. His already desperate desire to meet his "Mother" was enough to spell that out.

"Oh…what are we going to do with you?" Tifa asked casually, softly nudging the weepy kid, pretending the situation was far less dire.

Then, lifting his head, in the meekest, smallest voice, he replied, "Can I come home with you? I don't like it here…"

"Actually, Eden, I was just about to ask how you'd like to stay with Tifa for a while," Reeve supplied, trying a little harder to put up a positive front for the boy.

Truth be told, she was ready to offer. That Reeve did it for her was annoying, but at least she knew he wasn't trying to placate the loneliness created in Cloud's absence. Eden required a guardian who understood what he was enough to protect him from succumbing to it, but was open-minded enough to believe it could be done.  _What_  he was didn't have to be  _who_  he was, did it? So young, and the Reunion Instinct aside, his mind was a quintessential blank page, especially given that he had no prior memories of his life. For that, Tifa felt Eden deserved a chance.

"Before we move forward, you should know that Vincent has some other ideas. Be sure to talk to him, too." It was almost an afterthought, but it flew out of Reeve's mouth before he could suppress it.

Tifa hadn't noticed as the matron hurried her upstairs, but Vincent was waiting patiently in the front lobby the entire time. The man looked sorely displeased. If the red glare he cast at the opposing wall carried literal heat, nothing would be left of the orphanage but an ash heap. Nevertheless, Tifa chose to approach him unassumingly. She understood at least one thing about Vincent—Watching bits, pieces, and variations of Lucrecia's son come and go wasn't easy on him. He'd done his absolute best to forgive himself, but nothing could ever quite undo the notion that he might have prevented this vicious cycle of clones, remnants, and destruction.

"I take it you've met Eden," Vincent supplied somewhat darkly.

Tifa took a seat next to him, resting her face in the palms of her hands. "Yeah. I have."

"This won't end differently from the others."

Tifa exhaled. She honestly wasn't surprised that this bothered him. "Don't say that, Vincent. Who knows how long he's been around before he turned up here? He's just a kid, and he hasn't done anything wrong," she countered, although she had yet to be fully convinced.

"As a Remnant, Eden is a part of Sephiroth's will; a part of his being manifested without awareness of its origins. As a child, he may be the most dangerous—the part that was experimented on and tortured by Hojo. Maybe even the part that burned down Nibelheim. How often does a grown man call for his mother?" Vincent pressed, not pleased with having to bring up such a sore point for Tifa but knowing he must.

Phantom pain seared along the scar in Tifa's chest, but she willed away the visions of burning debris, bleeding townsfolk, and her father. The idea of welcoming her arch-nemesis into her home was entirely beyond her, but she needed to decide if Eden was  _that._ "What do you think we should do?" she murmured, feeling sick from the rather poignant detail Vincent brought to light. There was something rather  _childish_ about all of them-Kadaj, Loz, Yazoo, and ultimately, even Sephiroth himself.

"Euthanize him," Vincent felt no need to further justify that answer. Euthanize Eden. Lay to rest the youngest Remnant before it realized its potential. Deny him the opportunity to try. Free him from the conflicting impulses of being a child and being part of Jenova's legacy. End the battle before it got out of hand, quietly, peacefully, secretly. The matter was self-explanatory.

Even knowing all she did, with all the facts swimming in perfect order through her mind's eye, Tifa did not agree. The idea that someone's inner child could commit the violence she'd been forced to recall was simply ludicrous.

"You want to put him down, because we're all nervous about what he  _might_  do? What he  _might_  become? Vincent, listen to yourself. No, I don't trust him. Not at all, but for whatever else Eden is, he is only a  _child,_ " she protested.

"I think you've already chosen," Vincent calmly replied, opting not to argue. He'd said his piece.

"I'm not saying he isn't dangerous," Tifa continued, "but even if you're right, maybe this could be like a second chance."

"You would give Sephiroth a second chance?" He had to show her what she was really saying.

"Eden…is not Sephiroth. He's his own person."

"I hope you're sure..."

"I'm not, but I won't let it get out of hand." Tifa lifted her gaze to Vincent's tense form. Where she expected to see anger or disappointment, there was only sadness. "Vincent, whatever happens, it won't be like back then, with Lucrecia. I  _know_  this concerns more than just me. This affects everyone."

Vincent rose, briskly striding toward the exit. Tifa feared she'd offended him by bringing her up, but she knew that's what was eating at him about this. "Don't wait to ask for help," he murmured, glancing back, still forlorn.

"I won't. I promise," Tifa reassured him, and with a reluctant nod, he left.

During their entire ride home, Eden refused to let go of Tifa. Sleepy for how late it was, he ultimately settled for using her lap as a pillow, and her forearm as a makeshift plushy. He made it so easy for her to want to forget his nature, and simply accept him as just another orphan that she'd chosen to take under her wing during hard times.

And as she watched him sleep, she came up with a possible solution to Eden's constant longing for "Mother". It was so simple. She would treat him as a normal child who had truly lost his only parent. She'd help him let go of the Reunion Instinct, by masking it as genuine bereavement. That shouldn't be too difficult, she reasoned, considering how familiar she was with the feeling as of late.

As if subconsciously perceiving her benevolent manipulations, Eden stirred, whining and clutching Tifa's arm harder, weakling tugging.

Maybe it wouldn't work so well. Cloud suffered under the Reunion Instinct tremendously, although he fought it the best he could. His reward for that was both physical and mental punishment. The mental strain nearly broke him, more than once. In the end, it seemed that he always kept some loose attachment to Jenova. While he fought on the side of good, somehow,  _somehow,_ he was inexplicably drawn in the most subtle of ways. He  _had_   _to_ be the one to chase Kadaj down. He hid his Geostigma, and nearly gave up to it. He became the W.R.O.'s appointed delivery service for all things Jenova. For all his resistance, Cloud was always involved with it; was always there for the Reunion in spite of better intentions, and now he was gone.

Apparently, he wasn't invited this time.

Tifa felt like crying again, but that was something she'd have to rein in now that there was going to be a kid moving in with her. It was her duty to keep guard over Eden with a reliable straight face, and to treat him as sanely and kindly as possible. If that eventually came into conflict with preserving life on Gaia, she didn't know if she'd have the heart to do what needed to be done by herself, but she had all the help she needed.

For now, she didn't want to think in that direction. Arriving at Seventh Heaven's front door, all she was concerned with was getting the tired boy in her lap to a comfortable bed for the night. She hoped he might be less fitful in the morning. Eden, in addition to his frail appearance, was clearly exhausted. Wandering in the rubble alone, combined with the immediate medical examination and intense scrutiny he'd already undergone couldn't have been easy for him. The latter was probably hardly shy of traumatic.

Along those lines, Tifa's thoughts strayed into more foreboding territory again, considering the possibility that Eden had been a witness to Cloud's death. Reeve said he'd been found in the same area. She wouldn't press that issue any time soon; the poor child's head was already loaded with too much confusion. And frankly, she wasn't so sure she wanted or even needed to hear anything beyond the grotesque forensic details she'd already received. All she needed to know was that something gruesome and terrible was out there on the prowl. If Eden had indeed seen it, she might have to protect him from it, or worse, pry him away from something he suddenly felt the urge to label "brother".

_Enough._  That's what her rational mind commanded at the moment. Eden wouldn't have landed in the W.R.O.'s care with an empty memory if it was that simple. Whatever the truth, she'd sworn to look after him. Obsessing and hesitating would serve no useful end.

Indoors, she delicately maneuvered Eden upstairs and into Denzel's old bed, positioning his small frame comfortably. Responding to his softer, cozier surroundings, he groggily curled up into the fetal position, snuggling with the largest pillow.

"…Mother…"

Tifa flinched at Eden's half-slurred sleep talking, but sat beside him, tenderly pushing his hair back from his face, and dabbing the stray tears he'd just cried from his cheeks. When his nightmare fully subsided, she tucked him in, and retreated to her room with an aching heart. If nothing else was evident about him, it was that Eden was quite a tortured child.

 


	5. Cookies and Co-Consciousness

Tifa pulled. Tifa tugged, and pulled some more, but it was no use. First Tsurugi was lodged in the wall  _again_ , and it seemed content to stay there. Behind her, Yuffie waited, spinning in impatient circles, before purposely flopping onto her back, snickering at Tifa's dilemma. Until now, they had been sparring. Yuffie was shocked at how efficiently Tifa blocked each and every shuriken she threw. If she didn't know any better, she would have suspected that Cloud was alive and cross-dressing again. The woman was making some wonderful progress. Or so it seemed, right up until Yuffie sent a flock of origami cranes flying her way as a diversion. The flurry of paper birds threw her concentration off just enough that a misguided thrust forward resulted in her current predicament. Tifa was strong, graceful, and agile enough, but she struggled to stay focused in the face of sudden distractions.

"Gr…come on…out!" Tifa growled, bracing her legs, leaning as far back as she could without stumbling. The crack in between the bricks widened somewhat in response, but the sword still wouldn't budge. Viciously, Tifa gripped the handle harder, glaring at the stubborn blade, and threw all of her weight into another attempt to free the insolent thing from its resting place.

For how quickly she slipped, the handle might as well have been caked with butter. Tifa steadied herself after several wobbly steps backwards, but not in enough time to keep from crushing one of Yuffie's hands.

"Owwww! Watcha do that for?!" the girl howled, shaking her throbbing fingers.

"Sorry! I guess that's what you get for laughing." Reaching down, Tifa helped Yuffie up. "I'm going out to see how it looks on the other side."

Entertaining herself, Yuffie couldn't help but imagine Tifa trying to dislodge it from the wrong end. Her face fell when she reached the conclusion of that fantasy. "I don't know if that's a good idea," she sang," unless you really want to lose a hand."

"Well, I haven't done it yet." Tifa replied, matter-of-factly, brushing herself off.

"Yeah, yeah. You'll probably slice the bar up into little bits and pieces before that happens. But I gotta say, I didn't think you'd be able to block my throws like that. You must have learned  _something_  from Cloud…"

While Yuffie babbled on and on about how amazed she was with Tifa's growing ability, especially against herself, Tifa led the way down the short alley to Seventh Heaven's rear. Rounding the corner, the first thing she saw was Eden. Somewhere, he'd picked up a long, thin branch, and was intently poking at the wall with it. Fascinated by what was on the other end of the stick, he didn't notice her approach. First Tsurugi's shiny, sharp business end protruded two feet from the wall, and Eden was totally transfixed by it.

As her shoes scuffed the broken pavement, he guiltily dropped the stick, hiding his hands behind his back. "It came out of the wall…I didn't do it." He kept his eyes locked to the ground, kicking the stick away from him. Dread visibly welled up in his small figure when Tifa came to stand over him. Eden was almost cowering, bracing himself for something horrible.

When Tifa knelt down to see what was the matter, his hands flew up to guard the top of his head, and he squinted his eyes shut, cringing. He was defending himself, bracing for her to beat the life out of him. Granted, she wasn't exactly happy with the fact he'd been toying around with the sword, but she couldn't fathom becoming so uncontrollably angry at a child's idle curiosity. Apparently, once upon a time, it had been too easy for someone else.

"I did it, Eden." Gently, she pried his arms away from his face, and brought them down to rest at his sides. In his tiny wrists, she could feel his pulse racing, and she hated to think of what must have happened to frighten him so easily. "Did it scare you?"

Timidly, the boy nodded, before clinging to Tifa's neck. "You're not mad at me?" he asked, making sure.

Slowly pulling back from his fearful embrace, she held him firmly by the shoulders, and locked gazes with him. Unintentionally, she paused, slightly taken aback by the sharp gleam his eyes carried. "No, not at all. You did nothing wrong."

"Trust me, kid," Yuffie chimed in, "when Tifa's mad, you won't have to ask. She gets scaarrry! Lucky for you, she's totally soft on little guys like yourself. You could probably even get away with pilfering a few of her cookies from the bar for your best friend in the whole world, Yuffie! Not saying that you should, but if you really wanted to, you know…"

Tifa lightly sighed, and leaned in a little closer, whispering into Eden's ear. "Yuffie might be in trouble, though," she smirked at him in false mischief, pretending that it was their little secret.

In reality, Yuffie had been surprisingly supportive of Tifa's decision to care for Eden. The day they met, the obligatory tension that came with Eden's appearance evaporated almost immediately. In typical Yuffie style, she said a little more than she probably should have—

" _Tifa, I don't know why Vincent's so weirded out by this kid! He might be all larval looking and stuff, but…but, he's just a cute little firefly. Not like that Kadaj. He was more like a wasp or cock roach. Ewww…he gave me the creeps!"_

" _Larval? I'm…larval?" Eden echoed, pouting. The way she said it, it couldn't mean anything good._

After that, Tifa was forced to come up with a believable fib for why Yuffie had basically called him a bug. She told him it was a silly joke about some of the kids she'd taken care of before, and Eden was forgiving enough. It gave her pause that he never asked who Kadaj was, but then, he was only a kid. Why would he want to worry about that, when he was already concerned that someone older and bigger might be making fun of him?

Now, Eden fidgeted as he smiled back at Tifa, seemingly in deep, serious thought. "…Can I still have a cookie?" His fingers found their way into his mouth, and he gently nibbled on them in the absence of Tifa's sweet, moist, soft, chewy, delicious cookies.

"Looks like he's gonna eat himself if you don't say yes." Yuffie remarked. "Hmm. Wonder if that would work for me…" Pretentiously, she eyed her hands, and then Tifa. Eden giggled at her antics. Egged on, he bit down on all ten fingers, imagining they held a monster cookie.

"Nope. I'm afraid no one's eating anything until that sword's out of the wall. Besides, I don't want to spoil his dinner."

"Aaand…she lays down the law. Damn. Guess we got some work to do. Well, I'm all out of ideas. We're probably going to have to break the wall around it, just like the last bajillion times."

"I probably should practice outside more," Tifa acknowledged. The repairs to the training room were sapping up almost all her profits from the bar as of late. However, ironically, public knowledge of the new Geostigma outbreak had a lot more patrons coming and going. It was too widespread for the W.R.O. to keep under wraps anymore. People were more inclined to drink when they had loss to contend with, and for that, she'd practically turned into an unofficial grief counselor.

Looking back at his stick, Eden's face lit up. "Tifa, I can help. Look," he quietly insisted, and trotted over to where he'd kicked it. Although lightweight, the branch was at least a full foot taller than Eden. Testing it, he chose to grip the thicker end in his left hand and studied the wall. Noticing several cracks and chips in a spot beneath the blade, he held the stick just above eye level, taking aim.

Before Tifa registered what he was doing, he reared back, and charged at the wall, hitting the weak spot dead on; the branch running through freshly crushed brick. Above it, First Tsurugi tilted up, then slid effortlessly back inside, clanging on the linoleum floor.

"Wow! Nice job, Eden!" Yuffie congratulated him, jumping up excitedly. This meant good food wasn't too far off.

"See?" Eden beamed proudly up at Tifa, still holding the branch.

For a few very long seconds, Tifa struggled to answer. She wanted to encourage him; she wanted to be as happy as Yuffie was, but his pupils had dilated into sharp, pronounced slits in the wake of his little victory, sidetracking her. It was the one trait she was having a considerably hard time accepting. Just then, that stick was threatening to become something else, too. But that wasn't fair. It wasn't right for her to be shocked that a little boy made use of something like that, especially when he lived in a house full of swords, with a guardian who trained with them vigorously. What else was he supposed to imagine it as?

"Thanks, Eden," Tifa softly replied at last, having regained her rational bearings.

"Cookies?" he pressed again.

"I suppose I owe you one now," she conceded.

"Yay! That's right! Cookies for everybody!" Yuffie skipped ahead.

The poor girl was going to be miserably disappointed when she found out they were still raw.

* * *

 

A burly, muscular construction worker stomped tiredly into Seventh Heaven that evening, drawing the wary attention of the other drinkers. Judging by his blunt carriage, he was probably a stereotypical hot head. But this evening was different for him, Tifa could tell. Barring the simple fact that troublemakers usually kept their distance from her bar, this man looked sorely crestfallen. Face still coated in a layer of dust and sweat from a long day's work, he dragged his heavy feet to the front of the bar, and eased down onto a stool. Removing his hard hat, he mopped up the remaining streaks of dirt from his forehead with the back of his hand, while waiting for her to come for his order.

Drying her hands on a dingy old towel, she stepped lightly in his direction. "Something hard?" she assumed.

"Please," the man grumbled. "The sooner it knocks my ass out, the better."

Pushing aside three flasks in an overhead cupboard, she found the strongest bottle of tequila she carried. One hundred fifty proof, it would fulfill the man's wish, and likely make sure he didn't want it again for a very, very long time. But she also had his safety to consider, so she avoided using the generous double shot glasses she usually supplied for less potent liquors.

As she filled his glass to just shy of brimming, she saw him adjust on the stool, briefly revealing a huge swath of white bandaging around his midsection, craftily hidden beneath his shirt. A tiny trail of black fluid seeped out from beneath it, and on cue, he leaned forward subtly, doubling over as casually as anyone could.

Geostigma.

"Ugh….barkeep, listen," he rasped, hiding his pain behind a pretense of annoyance, "do you think you could hurry it up?"

That didn't sit well with the drunkard four seats down. "Shut the hell up, pal! Lockhart has enough of us to deal with without fuck-faces like you bitching at her!"

Palpable tension rose, and the normal, low chatter died down almost completely. Unexpectedly, the man didn't move, but to crack his neck, careless. "Hehe. Sure, whatever. If you're that comfortable sitting next to a marked man." Unabashed, he lifted both the hem of his shirt, and a small portion of the bandage, baring his disease to him. "I just want my last drink in peace, alright? Was told that this little hole is good for that…"

Quiet mumbling and leery glances accompanied the sound of half the bar moving to leave, not trusting that it wasn't supposed to be contagious.

"Keep to yourselves, or you both go," Tifa evenly asserted, and all the regulars that chose to stick around knew she meant it, come hell or high water. Satisfied that she'd been heard, she set the sick man's drink down in front of him.

The other man snorted something under his breath, but begrudgingly obeyed, tossing back the last of his beer. "..fu…that….we're all marked…."

"Thank you, miss," burly and sick muttered, downing the shot with a flourish. "You mind keeping it coming? I wanna be out cold when I rot. Bad enough I had to watch it take my son and wife."

Tifa stopped and pulled up a stool on her side of the bar. No one could do anything for a case like him but listen. "I'm sorry about that," she started, inspecting him. He was one of the lucky ones, still sane even though his body was moving into rapid cellular degradation. "But you know I can't let you do it here…"

"Shit, woman. I  _do_  know that. Ha…prolly' just try to run off like they did, screaming. I locked em' in, though. Didn't know what else to do. My boy—he kept hollering for his mama, even though she was right there. And then, she was yelling for hers!" Burying his face in the palms of his meaty hands, the big man sourly wept. Once upon a time, he may have been a man's man, emotionally impermeable, but his pride had been violently ripped out from beneath him.

A sharp pang of guilt twisted in Tifa's gut. Entire families were falling to the new strain, and here she was, willfully harboring a Sephiroth Remnant. She knew Eden had a lot of potential locked away in that tiny body of his. A small, callous inner voice argued that she should hand him over to science. With people dropping like flies, not even the W.R.O. would hesitate to use his genetic disposition to find a cure.

The dagger bit deeper; there was no justifying that level of cruelty to any living thing, let alone a sentient youth. She was his guardian. She was supposed to protect him from people who thought like that, not become one of them. In the end, wasn't inhumane, reckless research at the heart of the turmoil faced by all of Gaia?

But how Tifa pitied the man before her! It was one thing to lose a family, but quite another to have to stand by and watch it happen! That was one agonizing thing that resounded deeply within her, beseeching decade-old scars for vengeance, compassion, remorse—anything but apathy. She'd watched her mom die, she'd found her father murdered, she'd been just as impotent when it happened to Aerith, and then there was Cloud. The latter was still very fresh, but what she'd been fed over the course of many years, this man had experienced in a day or two. There was always someone left to her; he probably had no one. Tifa usually prided herself on being able to help and understand others because she'd been through worse, but this man's tragedy denied her that privilege.

Dutifully, Tifa fetched him a box of tissues, and a first aid kit. "Here, stay as long as you want. Drink's on the house. Only…please…" She pointed to his messy bandages, hoping he was still sober enough to catch her drift without having to embarrass him.

Snorting his pain back hard, he solemnly nodded in agreement, and made for the men's restroom.

She already understood the pain of losing a significant other, but what would it feel like to lose a son? To fail someone who was depending solely on her, and was too young and impressionable to know how to avert danger?

Would it feel the same way to lose Eden?

Tifa didn't want to entertain either thought. Whether through cowardice or sound logic, she had no desire to find out. Mercifully, her guilt faded. No matter how badly the world was collapsing around them, or whatever Eden's birthright, there could be no wrong in sheltering a child who had nowhere else to go.

* * *

 

Scrubbing the last sticky booze stain from the bar's counter, Tifa sighed in relief. She'd managed to convince Yuffie to escort the biggest, drunkest lug she'd ever seen to a nearby hotel. Yuffie was ready to book when she saw him, until Tifa explained his situation. Once she knew he suffered from Geostigma, she didn't put up any more of a fight. Just because recon was her main specialty with the W.R.O. didn't mean she couldn't pitch in a little public service as well.

Upstairs, Eden was supposed to be winding down from his playtime and getting ready for bed. Tifa listened for him and paused when she couldn't hear anything. Not the slightest noise filtered down, not even the soft patter of his feet, as he sometimes insisted on pacing around until she came up to say goodnight. It was dead silent.

Tossing the washcloth into the sink, Tifa already knew what was going on, and it troubled her. There were times, much like tonight, when Eden would simply space out. Even if he'd been incurably energetic during the day, once night fell, his bouncy enthusiasm gave way to a dark stupor. He moved and spoke slowly; lethargically, barely paying any mind to his surroundings. At first, she only assumed he'd worn himself out. Having Yuffie as a playmate half the time could do that. Carrying on a conversation with the woman could do that.

Then, she began to see how much he isolated himself when he got that way. The invisible walls he constructed to hide behind were nearly tangible. His little trances weren't those of a happy kid wandering off into a fun or mystical fantasy land because he had nothing better to do. They were the devoid, sorrowful, blank-faced gazes of a person who had no other escape from a torturous, unwelcome situation. They were the lonely daydreams of someone who longed for something left unspoken; unattainable or lost.

It was that same face Cloud had worn far too many times in his short life, Tifa sadly reminisced. Knowing what Eden was, Tifa speculated on how Cloud would react to him, if he were still alive to see his own depressive behavior plastered on a miniature likeness of his enemy. The idea passed briefly for its morbidity, bordering somewhere between sheer hilarity and abject horror. Either the roof would sag from the combined weight of their excessive sulking, or Eden wouldn't be here, because Cloud would have logically gone along with Vincent's ideas.

Tonight, the boy's mood was especially dour. Tifa could feel the tell-tale, angst-ridden, negative energy as she climbed the stairs. Like a sixth sense, she could usually get a sense for Eden's state of mind by just being nearby. Picking up on it was unnerving; being so open to the emotional impulses of another. Tifa's best guess was that it was some kind of awakened maternal instinct, although she partly believed the child truly did have a profound effect on the atmosphere.

All day long, he'd been in exceptionally high spirits, though. While she minded the bar, he was upstairs, playing rambunctious ninja games that Yuffie devised for him, and he was getting quite good at some of them. More accurately, Yuffie usually got her ass handed to her on a silver platter, once he understood the gist of a game. Tifa never imagined that she'd find the young girl's incessant whining so amusing, but there was something special about seeing her super-inflated ego wounded by a little kid.

Yuffie came downstairs once during the evening, and accused him of cheating because he'd beaten her at a stealth exercise repeatedly, walking across twice the number of floorboards without making them squeak. That meant she'd have to be the one to receive the "punishment", which was fulfilled either way in the form of forfeit cookies or random tickle attacks. Naturally, Eden made it his personal mission to deprive Yuffie of every cookie in her stash. He was an ambitious and cunning child, she complained; certainly, someday, she'd have nothing left but crumbs and bitter memories of how sweet they had been. And then, she'd  _reluctantly_  have to harass Tifa to make more.

But once closing time came, and everyone left for the night, Eden had apparently shut down again. She hated seeing him like this, and privately she wondered if it was her fault. She couldn't pin-point anything specific, though, aside from the lack of friends his…size. No one was certain of his age or birthday; the only clue was his medical assessment, which estimated him at around 8 or 9. Maybe that's what the problem was. For all the stability she might try to provide him, he hardly knew himself. During the day, he might simply be acting as everyone expected; a typical defense mechanism. Unfortunately, that would mean his dismal, dissociated state was the most genuine.

She watched him now, sitting in front of the window in his room, staring up at the moonlit night sky. Eden was curled up into a tiny ball, hugging his knees, motionless and quiet. Not even a wistful sigh escaped his small form. Sitting so still in the moonlight, he looked peculiarly like a porcelain statue, but it was not an impression that Tifa enjoyed. His bangs half-shadowed his eyes, adding to their luminescence; the light that was usually lively and curious turned to a detached, icy aquamarine glow.

Cautiously, she entered the room, not stepping too lightly so that he'd know she was there. In his unstable condition, he didn't need to be further burdened with fear. Assuming the same position, she settled next to him, seeking out the same supposedly enchanting point amongst the stars.

"Did you have fun with Yuffie today?" she murmured nonchalantly, after minutes of strained quietude, hoping only to draw Eden's attention, and get him talking.

Eden wasn't biting; the closest thing to a response he gave was to pull his legs in tighter to rest his head on them.

"It's pretty out tonight, isn't it?" she tried again, a little less personal.

"I want….to go there…" he uttered mechanically, blinking slowly.

"Why is that?" she replied.

"A….shining….future….?" he mumbled gently, curious of his own words, his face awash in an eerie, dreamy calm. "Far…away…"

"Hm?" Tifa narrowed her eyes, confused. That was rather cryptic for someone so young, and it still felt like he was talking more to himself than her. But Eden  _had_ proven quite intelligent so far.

"I…still need to find Mother, Tifa." he didn't cry or bemoan how or when this time. Exuding peace, the corner of his mouth twitched up in a thoughtful smirk.

What was the right thing to say to that? She'd wanted him to open up, but she was hoping against hope this wouldn't be the result. "Do you miss her?"

Eden glanced awkwardly at her then, as if her answer had caught him off guard. "I don't want to be…'larval'. Mother will make it all better…"

Understanding suddenly pierced through Tifa's solid composure. She was sitting face to face with Eden's Reunion Instinct. "Yuffie really shouldn't have said that. Is that why you've been sad?"

She laid a soft, comforting hand on his back, but he suddenly recoiled, shrugging her off. Partially veiled in the silver moonlight, something dangerous flashed across his face-a determined, bitter, calculating glare. Aggravated, Tifa was inches away from breaking into a lecture about not taking his frustrations out on others. As she reached to turn his head to look at her, a thin cloud suddenly dimmed the moonlight, and the soft, rounded contours of his face sharpened to match his cruel side-long stare. Tifa held her breath, stunned, and braced the palms of her hands on the floor.

"I have no reason to be sad…" he crooned, and then shuddered, nearly a convulsion. Remembering himself, his subtle mini tantrum subsided into overwhelming fear. "M-mother…where are you?" Sulking shamefully, he couldn't bring himself to look at Tifa.

Instantly dismissing what she'd just seen as a trick of light and shadows, Tifa groaned in frustration. Eden was a good kid; she had faith in that much. He was helpful, smart, and intuitive. These violent mood swings couldn't be healthy for him and leaving him to space out was just as unwise. He was hunched over now, covering his eyes, crying bitterly.

"Hey, you don't have to do this." Tifa took the upper hand at last, pulling him over to rest against her. He cried harder, choking sobs bursting from what she could only guess was a deep wellspring of subconscious suffering.

"But…I need her. I need her…"

As he leaned harder into her side, and his sobbing wore on, Tifa reached a small epiphany. She would offer him something close to what he sought; hopefully close enough to ease his instinctive pains. "If you don't mind, I can try to be your mom," she proposed, trying not to come across as too pushy. If anyone dared to suggest that her own mother or father could be replaced, she'd have rejected it without a second thought. Eden had every right to feel the same.

He sat up, evidently startled, but remained near Tifa. He wore another odd expression, childish wonder mingled with a deep, pensive focus. "I'm…not normal..." He blurted out, as though the obvious would—or should—dissuade her.

"So? I don't mind. Actually," Tifa held his hands, trying to show how sincerely she felt, "I like it that you're different."

Yet again, he was spellbound, like he'd been when she first entered the room. But this time, he was relaxed, and even held a sense of contentment. Tifa was able to breathe easier; the air felt like it lost literal weight. "I like you, too…but…I can't have two, can I? Mother…she will be with me soon."

Tifa grimaced, feeling half rejected, and wondered why she wasn't more perturbed by Eden's choice. "Eden, I worry about you…I just want to keep you safe," she sighed.

It was a typical parental line, but she never really realized the depth of it until those intentions were almost too hard to keep up with. So many dangers awaited him everywhere for what he was. But she'd seen him act as a normal child, perfectly happy, and she wanted to do whatever it took to let him keep that kind of existence.

Sleepily, Eden closed his eyes, and snuggled up to her, hugging her arm. He faintly smiled, before deeply yawning. "Don't be scared, Tifa. When I am with her, we won't forget you…"

 


	6. Mimetic Mischief

There was no kind and gentle way to break the news. Beating around the bush or misguiding Barret about Eden would be unfair. The man had a right to know about everyone his daughter would be living with over the next few weeks, but at the same time, she didn't want to force him to take it in all at once. "Marlene won't be the only kid here," Tifa started casually.

"Takin' care of more babies is probably good for you," Barret replied, chugging down more of the soda she'd given him. "Don't do no good to do nothin' but fighting. You're a good momma, too."

Tifa smiled weakly in response, folding her hands on the table. This was going to be a long talk. It was both sweet and annoying how everyone thought she should take it so easy after Cloud's passing, in spite of everything going on. Especially heartwarming and infuriating was the awkward, chauvinistic undercurrent between Cid and Barret, which seemed to suggest she should relegate herself to being some kind of widowed housewife. True, the kids were  _the_  top priority, but because of them, training and fighting were even more important. They couldn't very well enjoy their next meal if she'd been too busy cooking it to fight off a monster.

"He's a little different from the others," she dropped the next hint. "Reeve asked me to take this one."

"Orphanage must be just about overflowing these days," Barret's logic dodged again, choosing the most obvious path.

"It's getting there, from what I've heard."

"Dunno what can be done about this damn Geostigma. Oil digs have been losing good men. Mideel is almost a ghost town last time I heard. Damn shame. Almost hafta wonder if the Planet's really finished with us this time, cause it sure don't seem to wanna give a cure."

"No, Barret," Tifa corrected him, "it's not. The Planet is just as sick as the people. That's why it's so difficult."

She wondered if Barret had read his mail that morning. It was another conversation for another day, but according to the most recent World Regenesis Report, Lifestream samples taken from Mideel had reached critical infection, at around a forty-five percent contamination rate. The village was actually under strict quarantine to protect the outside world from the literal insanity rampant there. Rumors of Mideel deaths read like the script of a horror film. Once full mental decay set in, the victims were committing suicide by throwing themselves into the Lifestream.

"What I don't get is where it's all comin' from, Tifa. Nobody been running around and callin' for their 'Mother'," Barret noted. More people were on their way out than ever before, yet not a soul was to be found behind it among the living.

Tifa cleared her throat. This was it. Time to confess. "Except for here. The little boy I've taken in is…we believe he's a Remnant," She let the last word roll off her tongue softly, hoping that it would somehow lessen its impact. "He's about Marlene's age."

Barret stared blankly ahead, but there was that tell-tale twitch in his eyes and shoulders that let Tifa know he was about to explode. It really didn't matter how she'd chosen to tell him. She was going to ask if he wanted to meet Eden if he'd remained civil. As he was now, she feared that would end with the boy's body riddled with bullets.

"Ain't no way!" Barret growled, slamming his gun arm down on the old wooden table. The jagged impact took a chip off of the edge. From there, a large crack radiated out, halfway across the surface. He was tempted to put a few bullets through it for good measure; the fact that it didn't break clean in half bothered him. But Tifa's legs were directly under it, so he spared the worthless thing.

What Tifa was suggesting was senseless and inexcusable. After Cloud's death, he expected that she might be feeling less like herself; that she might be unsettled. But this was unacceptable. Had she forgotten everything they'd fought through only two years ago, and the irreparable damage those men had done to so many kids? Whether she did or not, no daughter of his was going to stay in the same house as Remnant! He'd sent Marlene upstairs to her normal room, telling her to unpack while he and Tifa talked. The girl was going to be miserably disappointed when she found out she had to gather everything right back up again, and it would probably scare her that he was so pissed off at Tifa, but that was better than what could happen if he let her stay.

She jumped backwards when he abused the table, more to avoid flying debris than out of intimidation. Her first thoughts were more in frustration at the fact she'd have to replace another bar table than of shock at his uncontrolled temper. To some extent, she'd been waiting for him to fume over this issue at least a little. At the same time, it had been a long, long time since she'd seen Barret this furious. The violence in his outburst reminded her of how he used to be just before their AVALANCHE missions. ShinRa intimidated him back then, though he'd never admit it. Gaia help anyone who dared to suggest that ShinRa's defenses were too sound, because he'd damn near accuse them of treason. But for the most part, Barret had cooled off since then. Where Marlene was concerned was the exception, and rightfully so.

Tifa stood her ground; she knew that when he was this angry, there was a very narrow middle ground to tread in reaction. Becoming confrontational in kind only served to further aggravate him worse most of the time. Backing down or acting timorously let the man think he'd "won", and he'd take the opportunity to gloat, losing complete track about what was really at stake. Pulling back up to the broken table, Tifa crossed her arms, unfazed. "Where else can Marlene stay, Barret? The oil surveys can be dangerous, too," she reminded him evenly.

The very reason Marlene had a second home with her was because Barret's oil work often took him places that were earthquake prone, where explosions ripped and drills plunged into the ground to search a little deeper, and where dirty men couldn't care less for a little girl walking among them. All those things were far worse than the little guy whose appearance might spook her, but only until she realized she could probably take him in a fair fight. Not that Tifa wanted the kids to fight; Barret was just picturing something far removed from how Eden really was. He was making this a lot harder than it really had to be and wasn't in any shape to meet him. They both had little ones to protect, and it irked her that it actually drove them into conflict.

"I dunno yet, Tifa. But she ain't stayin' here with that other kid. Unless you're jes' kidding about him," Barret pouted, but spoke several decibels softer, remembering that noise carried quite clearly upstairs. Regretfully, Marlene probably already heard him yelling. He had a long day of apologizing and explaining ahead now, on top of everything else.

"I don't blame you. I really don't. If I didn't know Eden, I'd say the same thing. But he's really a nice kid. It's getting a lot worse out there, Barret. It's bad enough having to worry about you," she argued, referring to Geostigma. That was another danger Marlene could face if Barret had to bring her with him. The oil surveys often brought workers and others in closer contact with the Lifestream, both pure and contaminated. Knowing that she was sleeping, playing, and eating in the same house as Eden could be nowhere near as devastating to him as seeing her contract the new strain.

Barret hunched over, making the table creak, spreading the crack almost all the way across. "Marlene  _has_  seen too much. People losin' their minds and dying. Seeing Spiky in that hole scared her the worst, I think. Scared the shit outta me," he admitted.

"She'll be safe here, Barret. Like always."

"Damn, Tifa. That's the problem. Last time all this went down, she wound up with that bratty kid who turned into Sephiroth. Poor girl still don't wanna talk too much about it..."

* * *

 

Marlene Wallace lay on the floor, flat on her stomach, flipping through a book. It was one of many she'd inherited from Aerith's collection. Some were still a little too hard for her to understand, but she was learning fast. Her daddy was so proud of her, too. It made him smile, even on those days when he used too many bad words.

Denzel, on the other hand, declared that they were too "girly" after borrowing a few. Although she faithfully practiced sharing, Marlene was secretly relieved. If anything happened to those books, she'd be really upset. He had a way of being rough on anything else he owned. Her best friend was growing up way too fast, in her opinion. Playtime once filled with moogles and chocobos turned into imaginary monster fights most of the time. Once, a plush chocobo lost its head when he got carried away! Denzel was so preoccupied with wanting to be like Cloud, he couldn't see how boring it was. And it scared her a little. If he became a strong fighter like Cloud was, didn't that mean he could get hurt really bad, too?

Waving her legs lazily in the air, Marlene comforted herself by humming softly as she turned another page. In one dog-eared corner, she saw a small note scribbled, ' _It whispers a lot lately. Elmyra will be sad, but he's returned to the Planet.'_  She read those lines a few more times before getting back to the story. Aerith was special, Marlene mused. She always knew what was going to happen next. Deep down, Marlene knew, along with everyone else, that she'd been protecting them from the Lifestream. But why did Cloud have to die? Had the flower girl forgotten about them? Marlene balled her hands into small fists, scared, angry, and sad.

Before she could think too much about it, she heard Barret slam his arm down. That was a bad sign, especially if it was because of Tifa. It was already weird that they'd asked her to wait up here. Her daddy never hurt anyone who didn't genuinely have it coming, which meant that Tifa was safe, but Marlene hated seeing him fight with the closest person she had to a mother. Then again, even if he did lose his temper with another good person, all it took to cool him off was for her to break the rules a little and go see him. He couldn't bear to frighten her or make her cry. Marlene was his strong little girl. She almost never cried, so when she did, it meant that either something awful had happened, or that he'd messed up badly. Seeing Marlene tended to screw his head on straight almost immediately.

Closing the book, she was about to do just that, but then the conversation abruptly died down. This was one of the many reasons Marlene adored Tifa. She knew how to read through almost anyone's baby fits and make them talk reasonably again. While she could put up one hell of a fight, she'd never give into it unnecessarily.

Still curious, Marlene pressed an ear to the bedroom door, but she could only make out soft grumbling. That's how it sounded when her daddy decided it was better to argue with himself instead. In a strange way, Marlene found it funny. She'd never embarrass him by telling anyone, but it let her see Barret for the big baby he really was.

Straining harder to hear them, her concentration was suddenly interrupted by a light scratching noise from behind, just outside her bedroom's open window. Nervous, she crept away from the door, grabbing up her book again. The hard-back cover might help discourage anything that wasn't welcome, especially if it got a bloody nose from a solid smack upside the head. She'd run after that, she imagined, while the invader was still reeling from the hit, and Tifa and her dad could come get rid of it.

The first thing she saw wasn't exactly threatening. A little kid's hand, not much bigger than her own, or maybe even a little smaller, reached up to grab a hold of the windowsill. Marlene stopped in her tracks, holding her book up just enough to cover the lower half of her face. Another hand found its way over, and the top of its owner's head soon followed. Shining aquamarine eyes scanned the room leisurely, widening when they landed on her.

Marlene realized that whoever was trying to break into her room was just another little kid. Dashing over, she placed her hands on her hips in dramatic disapproval, scowling down at her uninvited visitor. "Who are you and what are you—" Getting an eyeful of his full figure now, Marlene ate her words. This kid looked like one of  _them._  Already, she painfully regretted abandoning her book. "….no…"

Still hanging from the window, the boy simply grinned, delighted with his newest discovery, pretending not to see how frightened she was. "I'm Eden. Tifa brought me here."

"I don't believe you. Go away!" Marlene cried, backing up a few more steps.

Eden remained disturbingly calm, choosing instead to pull himself up the rest of the way. Inside Marlene's room, he sat down with his back against the wall, just below the window. Marlene hesitated; this kid wasn't acting like they did. At least, not enough. He was acting like most mischievous boys her age, going places they were told not to simply because they were told not to. Forbidden places,  _of course,_  must hold all kinds of adventure and hidden fun. Denzel said something like that one time and following through with it rewarded him with a monster he'd barely been able to defeat, and a shattered leg that took months to heal.

"Yuffie stays in here sometimes. Other than that, Tifa keeps the door locked," he explained, hoping it would bring her guard down, giving her some kind of proof that he lived here. Sure, he wasn't supposed to sneak in, but she was someone new, and he couldn't resist the temptation to find out who she was sooner.

Stiffly, Marlene sat on the far edge of her bed. "You…don't hate everything?"

"…no?" Eden blinked, perplexed.

"You're weird," Marlene blurted. "We should go downstairs to Tifa and daddy. They'll know if you're lying."

Thinking she had her intruder cornered, Marlene grabbed Eden by the hand, and dragged him along. Their steps down were heavy, as Eden resisted slightly. Marlene smiled triumphantly, feeling sure that she'd busted him. Just as they reached where the wall parting the stairs from main bar room ended, he pried himself free, and clung to the corner. Peeking around apprehensively, he saw that they'd both been noticed.

"Tifa! A strange boy climbed into my room!" Marlene sang out.

Barret was instantly ready to jump out of his skin, but Marlene tranquilly padded over to him before he could react. Seeing her unharmed calmed him just enough to keep his cool and sit back down.

"Eden, I see you there," Tifa called out, drawing him from his false cover.

Shamefully, he detached from the wall, and marched down the rest of the way. Wary of Barret's accusing glare, he made a beeline for Tifa, and hid himself behind her legs. "I'm sorry…" he whispered.

Then, Barret howled. When Tifa told him about Eden, and what he seemed to be, he'd automatically envisioned a monster. The kid would definitely have abnormal strength, be dressed in black, and probably had a concealed weapon. Who knew? Maybe he even used mind control on Tifa? "Aww, shit, Teef! Hehe…no wonder…"

"Daddy," Marlene protested his language, "mind your manners!"

"Sorry, Marlene," Barret chuckled. "Guess no one can help where they come from." Now, the idea that Eden could be dangerous suddenly seemed like a sick Mako poisoning dream. He was nothing but a scared little runt of a child, as far as Barret could tell.

"No, he can't," Tifa mirthfully agreed. She decided against reprimanding him for not being ready to meet Eden in the first place. In the end, the kids made the decision for everyone. "So, Marlene can stay?"

"Yeah, she can. She'll have fun." Turning to Marlene, he said his goodbyes, "Take it easy on the little guy over there, alright Marlene? I'll call as soon as I get where I'm goin'."

* * *

 

That evening, Eden was in her room again. Distracted by Barret's change of heart, Tifa failed to admonish him for sneaking in the first time. Now, Marlene seethed, stomping in on him. He had her books sprawled all over the place, some left half-open; others with a bunch of make-shift bookmarks. She didn't want to guess where the paper for those had come from. Comfortably as could be, he reclined on the floor in front of the bookcase, leafing through one of the thicker volumes with great interest.

"What are you doing?" She demanded.

Eden said nothing. He narrowed his eyes but continued reading silently. Brusquely, Marlene started plucking her novels and other tales up from the floor, depriving them of the markers. Seeing they were made of plain construction paper, she exhaled in relief. Infuriatingly, the boy remained, entirely undisturbed by her mood, while she cleaned up  _his_ mess.

Thinking hard, Marlene tried to recall what order the books had been in. That was important; the bookshelf had been Aerith's too, and she'd been very careful to keep everything exactly as the flower girl had left it. But aside from the ones that belonged in a series, it was impossible to tell. There were too many.

"Why did you do this? They don't belong to you!" Marlene hiccupped, biting back angry tears. Eden already looked too much like the man who wanted to destroy everything, and now he was touching Aerith's books, disorganizing them and handling them recklessly. She couldn't stand it!

Finally, Eden closed the book he was so engrossed in, and glanced up at Marlene. His revenge for her tattling was nearing completion. The pitiful girl was frantic; moving the books around, but never completely satisfied that they were back on the shelf just right. He, however, remembered where they'd been when he first stumbled upon the treasure trove of literature, almost photographically. Quietly, he stood up, and caught Marlene's hand before she could make another futile attempt.

"Don't be upset. I'll fix it, Marlene," Eden cooed, gently pushing her aside. This was most amusing. She had the books precisely backwards from their original order. Setting them right would be easy.

Allowing him to handle Aerith's books again made Marlene fidget. Eden didn't seem to be a real bad guy, but she felt something akin to being bullied. His self-satisfied smirk grew as he rearranged them to their rightful positions, and she could tell he definitely enjoyed getting a rise out of her.

"There. All done. Good as new," he proudly announced after several minutes, but Marlene kept pouting, keeping her arms tightly crossed.

"You're supposed to ask," she muttered.

"Next time," Eden replied casually, flopping down on Marlene's bed, and resumed reading the only book he didn't put away. "…the Promised Land," he uttered reverently, reading softly aloud.

Marlene was about to decry his invasion of her bed, until she heard those two words. "You can actually understand that one?"

"Yeah, kind of," Eden paused, waiting for her to ask. For some reason, he found he enjoyed toying with Marlene a little. It was a fascinating way to get her attention. He'd have to be careful with it, though; Marlene was very close to Tifa.

"So….tell me, what does it say?" She finally gave in, after a half minute of confused staring.

"The Promised Land isn't on just one planet…It's far, far out in space, too. At the center of the universe. It's where everything really comes from. The Lifestream cycles in a planet for as long as it can, and then it returns.  _'All things to become one; all then reborn into celestial bodies',"_ he recited.

"Hmm….Daddy told me about that. After his friend Vincent got rid of Omega. When the Planet dies, it returns to the universe. So, really, life never ends. No one can ever make it go away! It's everywhere!" Marlene declared, happy that she already knew. Eden couldn't one-up her every time.

Eden turned on his side to face her, his cocky grin subsiding into a much gentler, doleful smile. Marlene had settled for resting in a large, pink beanbag on the floor until he grew bored with harassing her. Hopefully. "What if…what if someone wants to know everything?" he whispered, mystified with the question.

"Everything? That's impossible."

Eden pointed to the ceiling, drawing imaginary lines in the air. "I think…if you could reach the center, where it all started, you could. But only planets return there, so maybe you're right…"

"Eden?"

"Hn?"

"Are you sure—really sure you don't want to make everything go away?" Marlene spoke fast, feeling tremendously stupid for asking.

But Eden gazed curiously at Marlene, pondering a thousand small things at once. There was something in this conversation, he could feel it.  _Mother._  She was reaching out to him, trying to lead him. Could Marlene help him find her? "Only some things…Marlene, can I tell you a story?"

"Okay," she agreed, curling into a ball and punching down some of the bean lumps to get more comfortable.

"There was once a beautiful creature, who traveled from world to world. She fed upon each world's Lifestreams, taking them into herself. At the end of her journey, she planned to return to the center of the universe, where all life could join as one within her, in a great reunion. But she came to one planet that didn't like her plan. They claimed to be the true keepers of life, but they could only defeat her by giving up many of their own. In the end, all the Lifestreams she carried were released into that special planet, and they sealed her away." Eden stopped short, noticing Marlene's struggle to stay awake. It was too bad; there was a lot more to that story.

Although her eyes were unbearably heavy, Eden's tale wouldn't let her mind rest. "Why did she want it all to herself?" she yawned, lifting her head, but dropping it back down in defeat.

"It's what she was meant to do, Marlene. Kind of like how you were meant to keep those books in order, I think. She was destined to find the heart of the Promised Land and become the ruler of worlds." He didn't get how she could fall asleep during a story like that. Something about it made him giddy.

"But…it's everywhere…" Marlene's head bobbed as she momentarily succumbed to sleep. "I don't understand…mmm…kinda pretty story, though…weird…"

Taking pity on her, Eden reluctantly slid off of Marlene's bed, freeing it for her. The girl wordlessly stood up from her beanbag then and wobbled over. Lazily, she tossed a blanket over herself, and simply passed out, not even bothering with pajamas.

Downstairs, Tifa was still closing up the bar for the night, trying to coax the last few drinkers to finish up and leave. That meant it would be a little while before she came up. To Eden, who had taken a sudden interest in the huge, pink beanbag, it was the perfect opportunity. Quietly, he grabbed it by two handfuls, and dragged it across the floor, out of Marlene's room, and into his. Considerately, he tip-toed back to shut her door before retiring to his room, feeling quite accomplished.

Wrapping himself in a dark blue throw from his bed, Eden settled into the bean bag like he'd seen Marlene do. A large depression formed, conforming to his weight. The spot was still luxuriously warm from where she'd relaxed. Marlene was going to be so mad at him tomorrow when she saw it missing, and he was going to relish every minute of it.

 


	7. Where Monsters Hide

Marlene didn't like it here. It was dusty, dark, and an ideal home to humongous spiders. And probably, large green slime stains from back when the boogeyman still existed. Fighting the urge to sneeze was making her eyes water, but if she could wait long enough, it would be well worth the effort. Eden had left his room's light on, so he should be back in a few minutes. Until then, she would lay in wait under his bed.

Normally, Marlene believed in playing nice. Usually, she would accept apologies unconditionally and kindly move on. But when dealing with a certain silver-haired boy who somehow knew how to turn his apologies into another way to torture her, the situation called for some atypical rudeness. Today was Marlene's first exercise in the filthy, despicable art of revenge.

Literally filthy, her hiding place was fast teaching her, as she felt the tip of her foot stick to the floor. The plan wasn't comfy at all, it turned out, but it was simple enough. When Eden came back in, and got close enough to the bed, his ankles were hers to grab. As it also turned out, today was an exercise in patience. He'd been gone for longer than she thought he'd be, probably sucking up to Tifa again, she figured.

Eden was a crafty child; Marlene was sure she had his number. He was notorious for giving the grown-ups his puppy eyes—as much as one with feline eyes could—and for always being super helpful in whatever they asked of him. But when he was around other kids, or child-like people like Yuffie, all bets were off. The mask came down, and he was ready to torture, instigate, and manipulate. The only exception to that was when he was scared. When frightened, Eden acted like someone was out for his life. Whatever boogeyman used to hide under his bed had some very real, very sharp teeth and claws, Marlene guessed.

As quietly as possible, Marlene exhaled, resting her cheek against the yucky floor. Kids who acted like Eden were usually more afraid and hurt than anyone else. She'd learned to feel sorry for them. The bullying was just their way of pretending not to be. Secretly, she found she rather liked Eden. Once he was done teasing her for the day, he turned into a mysterious, calm storyteller. He was so different from other kids then. From the way his eyes glowed coolly in the dark, to how he could take her from one side of the galaxy to another in a few words, Eden was special.

And for that, she slept soundly. Before she'd arrived to stay with Tifa, she'd seen so many sick people. It was just like last time, but so much worse. At least last time, people with Geostigma weren't violent. Others avoided them solely for the paranoid notion that they might become ill, too. This time, the malady made infected people do terrible things. Sleep became nightmare-ridden for her, between that and having to say goodbye to Cloud. The one person who always made it better was gone. Who would fight it all away now?

Even though he was just a scared kid playing tough most of the time, in that small way, Eden did. He at least kept the monsters out of her dreams, hypnotizing her into an illusory escape from a plagued planet.

Lost in thought, she accidentally let out a low gasp when two small feet came trotting in. They were veiled by several sets of pants' legs, hanging down from his arms in her view. So, that was what had been taking him so long. Tifa must have called him to put away his clean clothes. That meant she'd probably have to do the same next. If only that stupid boy would step a little closer…

Slowly flattening her palms against the floor, Marlene pushed herself a few inches closer to the edge of the bed. At the same time, Eden turned sharply, stepping so that the tips of his toes actually went underneath, with her. Marlene had to bite her tongue to keep from yelping out loud. He'd almost kicked her in the face! She'd been halfway tempted to back down out of pity, but he'd just unwittingly thrown that chance away.

Hands snapping forward like kitten's paws, she clung to both of his ankles tightly. Eden didn't flinch or scream; he froze. Not a peep came from either one of them. Then, he took a step back. Stubborn, Marlene didn't let go; she was at least going to annoy him. He took another, pulling her partway from beneath the bed. Too proud to admit she'd been caught, she kept her face lowered, while Eden gradually backed up until she was out in the open.

"Gotcha!" she squeaked, while he bent over to pluck her hands from his legs.

"You breathe too loud," Eden declared, almost a complaint. He really sounded disappointed in her.

Marlene glowered. Did he actually  _want_  her to get him back? Was there absolutely nothing she could try that he wouldn't be able to turn right back around on her? "You're no fun."

"You're dirty," he replied, as she pushed up from the floor.

"Huh?" Looking down at her favorite white dress, she saw what she feared worst: smudges of dust and dirt, one dead spider with legs still twitching, and a big, red glob of old gum. "Eww!"

Squirming, she brushed the spider away.

Eden observed where it landed and wasted no time in retrieving it. It was a big, juicy arachnid, with a rounded torso and thick, prickly black legs. He studied the hideous spider closely, fascinated.

"Ugh…how can you touch something like that?" Marlene asked.

Then, he began to desecrate the corpse, plucking off one leg at a time. Insignificant and obsessive, his gross behavior had Marlene oddly horrified. The mystical cherub that told her stories at nightfall was transformed before her into a ruthless predator, basking in the total ruin of something much smaller. An emerald eye served as the backdrop for the now-legless body, which he smashed between his thumb and forefinger.

He ignored her question, staring indifferently into her wide, frightened brown eyes. Marlene quickly looked away, nervous. The door was right there, and Eden was acting just like one of the other men had. At the moment, he felt like they had. "Mother will come to me…" he mumbled, softly enough for her not to make out what he said.

But Marlene decided she wouldn't leave. Eden just needed someone to snap him out of it. Where she should have been nothing but afraid, she was also enraged. The rage won out. First, he caught her trying to startle him, and now, he was paying her back by acting like this? Before she could catch herself, her hand had already made contact with his face, eliciting a tiny ' _crack'_  to prove the deed true. She didn't just think about it this time, she actually did it.

People sometimes do strange things when they're scared, Tifa once told her. Throwing materia at Loz's head to protect her from him was one time she was quite proud of, once she realized what she'd really done. Tifa was still alive because of that silly throw. But now, fear had caused her to hurt someone. Finding out that she was really no different in this way was excruciatingly shameful. Eden was just being his normal, annoying self, playing with the spider's body to freak her out. She'd smacked him upside the head because she failed to control her wild imagination. Marlene booked out the door then, to go tell on herself.

Eden didn't even register the hit. Unmoving at first, he felt involuntary words forming on his tongue. The sound of ripping winds and clanging metal emerged before his mind's eye like a long forgotten, distant memory. The spider's crunchy torso breaking and smearing between his small fingers forced them out, thickly mumbled, "…this…time…you…won't….forget…."

It scared and confused others so badly when he felt like this, but it exhilarated him, and he couldn't help it. Buried somewhere deep within his own mind and body, there lived a force beyond his childish comprehension, and he wanted more, but it was always just out of reach. It moved him as it pleased, inching towards absolute control, but only slowly. And it made him long for Mother  _so much more._  He would do or give anything to satisfy that inner existence.  _Anything._  Being forced to wait for it was unbearable, but if that's what Mother really wanted, that's what he would do.

* * *

 

Tifa made her way upstairs, home early tonight. A couple of her customers had gotten into a scuffle over their girlfriends. Or, was it their wives…? No, one of them clearly said something about another guy in there, too...? Either way, it was none of her business. Jilted lovers always made for bad drunks. Complicated ones like these never seemed to know when to stay down. Once she'd pummeled them two or three times, and the authorities had carted them away, the bar pretty much emptied out. With that, she decided she had enough for one night.

Before that, Marlene had hit her first boy. Denzel would be greatly relieved, if he chose to visit any time soon. Tifa nearly choked in laughter but stopped herself. The girl was doing the right thing by telling, and Eden could be sensitive at times. While it seemed he spoke less and less of "Mother" as time passed, if something really upset him, he relapsed. As it stood, he'd caught her off guard with how quickly he'd opened up and enjoyed picking on Marlene. Maybe it was Yuffie's influence? That, and kids were always different around one another than with adults. Eden couldn't stay in a state of traumatized shock forever, so this was a good sign. He only remained somewhat shy and excessively polite around her.

Walking down the hall, Marlene caught up to her. "Tifa!"

"Marlene? Why aren't you in bed yet? Did you hear what happened in the bar?" For the bar, an early closing meant around midnight. For the kids, that meant they should have been snoring and drooling into their pillows for at least an hour by now.

"Uh-huh! And you beat them up, right?" Marlene grinned, wanting all the grueling details. Daddy sometimes slipped and told her about some of his fights. Of course Tifa won; there wasn't a single mark on her. All that was out of place were a few strands of hair. That didn't mean she didn't want to know how many teeth the bad guys were now missing, or if their noses were permanently funny-shaped.

"Yeah, I did," Tifa admitted. "But we never do that unless someone else tries it first." Somehow, she didn't trust Barret not to egg her on if she started beating up boys at random.

"I know. I still don't like what I did today…I tried to say I'm sorry, but he didn't even remember. He's weird. But Eden said he wants to tell me another story tonight!" Marlene exulted, hopping in place, way too hyper.

"He's not in bed either, huh?" Tifa asked. She'd been growing suspicious of how late they might be staying up while she ran the bar. From how animated Marlene was, she was probably going to have to limit how late they were allowed to have soda as well.

"Nope. You should come and listen, too!" Marlene tugged on Tifa's hand impatiently, eager to share Eden's awe-inspiring tales with her.

Curious, Tifa gave in to her wishes, rather than scold them both for being up too late and followed her into her room. She was surprised this was apparently not the first time, considering how often Marlene complained about Eden. It figured they'd only get along when she wasn't looking. Inside, Eden was comfortably nestled on Marlene's beanbag. Known only to Marlene and himself, he'd officially claimed it as  _his_  spot in her room. Scanning unhurriedly through a picture book of Cetran temple art, he barely noticed their entrance.

Skipping across the room, Marlene turned down the light. Tifa settled with sitting on the floor, reclined against Marlene's bed. Now that the girl was actually in it, Tifa hoped she might be content to stay there. On cue, Eden rested the book in his lap, slowly looking up from his study.

"Tifa?" Eden tilted his head slightly, suddenly tense. So much for all the times he'd told Marlene they wouldn't get caught.

"Marlene says you've been telling her some pretty neat stories," Tifa gently accused.

Eden smirked; that small, pseudo-evil grin that some children make when they know they've misbehaved, and don't regret it. "She likes them," he gave his only defense, as he subtly shrugged his shoulders. His fidgety hands betrayed how anxious he really was; he wasn't being disobedient for simple defiance's sake.

"I'd like to hear them too," Tifa pushed. "Just one. Then, maybe I don't have to tell Barret you've been keeping her up."

Shrinking down into the beanbag, Eden felt his face heat up. Tifa was kind, and she kept him safe. Tifa cared for him, and honestly, he liked her too. Barret, on the other hand, made him want to hide. Marlene's father was the kind of man who'd gladly rip apart all of Edge if he thought it was for her sake. With that kind of threat in mind, he weakly agreed, "Okay."

Marlene giggled, and brought a pillow to the side of her bed to rest her arms in, lying on her stomach. "Tell us, Eden."

"This story takes place a long time after the first one," he started. "Some people found the creature that had been sealed away, and they freed her. But she was very weak from sleeping for so long. They thought she was dead, but what they did with her actually helped a lot." Eden paused, looking anxiously at Tifa.

"What did they do, Eden?" She leaned over her knees, listening closely.

"They…studied her. And then, they gave her three of their kids. In those little babies, there was the purest of Lifestreams from all the worlds she'd visited. They put a small part of her into each of them. She was very happy. She had sons now, who would grow strong and help her. But two of them grew up to hate her. They hated what she'd made them. One of them died, and the other went missing. He hasn't been seen since." A dead hush fell over the room when he stopped again.

It was recent history, told in the words of a child's fairy tale. All the politics, most of the mad science, and general morbidity were missing in action. Tifa already knew who the characters in Eden's story were. Marlene did not. Everyone had graciously spared Marlene the grisliest details about Jenova and Sephiroth. All she knew from herself, Cloud, and Barret was that Sephiroth was the worst of the worst, and that Jenova was the "Calamity that fell from the sky" that ShinRa used to enhance SOLDIERs. She knew that Sephiroth was once the ultimate SOLDIER, and that he'd snapped after discovering he'd been genetically engineered. No one ever told her the full, horrific extent of Sephiroth's true plans, nor of the depth of his relationship with Jenova. Wasn't it enough for a child's mind simply to say that he hated everything?

Eden wasn't exactly painting the alien entity for what it was; Jenova was the hero of his story. Whether he was intentionally twisting the details, or if it was what he really believed, Tifa couldn't tell. But to him, Jenova was a glorious, noble cosmic pilgrim who'd been unjustly thwarted in her holy journey. It had apparently been long enough for Marlene to start forgetting, so she wasn't quite connecting the dots yet. For her, it was a beautiful epic that felt a little funny for some unknown reason.

"What about the third baby?" Marlene questioned. "Did he help her when he grew up?"

"Yeah, he did. The people who found her kept lots of secrets from him, because they wanted his power for themselves. But that's not what he was meant to do. You see, Marlene, they made a big mistake. They accidentally made the third one even more powerful than the creature herself. He was perfect, and when he found out about everything, he chose her as his Mother, and left them. After he rescued her, they fell into the Lifestream together, where he could learn even more. It would take them some time, but they were almost ready to continue their journey."

"What about his normal mother?" Tifa spoke out, feigning ignorance for Marlene's sake. "Did he ever find out about her?"

"She was one of the ones who offered him to the creature. After he was born, he never saw her. In the Lifestream, he learned so much, Tifa. No one could lie to him ever again. But the lady who gave birth to him…never even tried to come for him. All she ever did was cry and get mad. But…but, he was never allowed to."

Then, the little tremor in his voice broke, and Eden sobbed. Tifa's heart was racing in brutal inner conflict, but she rushed forward, and cradled him. "I know, sweetie. It's not right. She shouldn't have…"

Meanwhile, Marlene crept in from the side, and knelt in front of the beanbag. "I hope they make it," she murmured, trying to help console him. Something felt awkward about saying that, but how else could there be a happy ending?

But as Eden looked down at her from behind Tifa's embrace, Marlene was taken aback. This was the same Eden who'd picked apart the spider. He was the same dangerous boy with sharp, focused slits for pupils, but a numb, detached gaze. The only difference was that he was weeping this time, helpless.

Scooping the disturbed child up from the beanbag, Tifa decided to put an end to tonight's story time. "Marlene, I'm going to put Eden to bed. This is why you guys shouldn't stay up so late," she mumbled, straining to keep up a pretense of normalcy.

"Sorry, Tifa. We won't do it again," Marlene promised, giving her a lazy hug. "Goodnight. Goodnight, Eden."

"…night…Marlene," Eden vaguely slurred in response, his head half buried in Tifa's shoulder.

Across the hall, in his own room, he still sulked. Tifa remained with him for an hour, while Marlene watched the clock on her dresser. She couldn't sleep when everyone was so sad. Worried, she finally crawled out of bed, and listened through her door.

"Mother will be with me," came Eden's cry.

Yet another hour passed while she waited for everything to be okay, but Tifa didn't leave him until he slept soundly.

And then, after Marlene heard another door shut, she heard Tifa crying too, for Cloud.

Marlene didn't. She wouldn't. She pushed it back, tightly cocooning herself in her blankets. Someone had to be strong. Someone had to look after them. She thought of the third boy in Eden's story, the one who was never allowed to cry, and believed that this was how he must have felt. It was a surprisingly empowering feeling, but at the same time, so lonely and vulnerable. She couldn't wait for the next story. If he made it to the heart of the universe with his mother, would that make him happy? Despite all her covers, Marlene shivered.

* * *

 

Relief came when Yuffie stopped in at Seventh Heaven early the next morning to help Tifa train. Whether it was by the dark circles under Tifa's eyes, or the triple shot espresso she was nursing, she knew that something had gone awry. And after hearing what had happened with Eden, Yuffie all but demanded that she go meet with Reeve at W.R.O. Headquarters, while she kept an eye on the kids. Tifa no longer knew what to do with the little guy; the line between safety and danger was too blurred and volatile. Worse was that Marlene precariously walked it now, like a wobbly balance beam in an earthquake. The only guarantee was that she'd fall, and land on one side or the other.

As much as Tifa wanted to protect Eden, she'd also promised her friends she wouldn't wait to ask if she needed help. Although it embarrassed her a little, she was glad Yuffie showed up to push her.

At present, she rested her elbows on Reeve's desk, sinking her fingers deep into her hair to support her head. She'd relayed as much as she could remember from the previous night about Eden's story. In her own voice, it felt perverse and surreal; nothing about it was untrue, but it underhandedly twisted atrocities she'd personally witnessed into acts of divine justice. If that wasn't damning enough, Vincent practically leered down at her, making her feel as though she'd been complicit just by listening. Either that, or her exhaustion was making her paranoid.

"You expected differently?" he asked her, incredulous of her shock.

Tifa's eyes snapped open, and she leaned back into the chair to keep it from happening again. Falling asleep was a bad idea.

"No, Vincent, I didn't. He's a Remnant. I know that. I knew going into this that it wouldn't be easy. But I definitely didn't expect him to start brainwashing Marlene. I still don't even know if that's really what's going on," she defended. Pulling the right words together was strenuous; last night had afforded her no rest at all. She was nauseous, her eyes stung, her tongue was too thick, and her whole body felt heavy.

Reeve listened intently, stirring another sugar into his coffee, carefully considering Tifa's situation. "Has he turned violent at all?"

"Not unless you want to count a spider he mutilated," Tifa answered, biting back the urge to become sarcastic. She knew they were trying to help, but right now, she felt more like she was being interrogated. Vincent had an interesting way of turning back into the Turk he'd once been in times like these. Eden was still acting, for the most part, like a normal child. At least there was that for her to fall back on.

"He leaves out the most violent details of Sephiroth's exploits, and doesn't give any names?" Reeve continued, grimacing after taking a sip from his cup, burning his upper lip. With the decidedly negative, investigative stance Vincent took, it was only fair that he try to pick out more favorable signs.

"Yeah. It's like he's purposely telling it to make it easier for Marlene to accept. Anyone who really had to fight him is completely missing so far," she reiterated.

Vincent flipped through Eden's profile, double checking the psychiatric evaluation. "Is it possible his memory is returning?"

Tifa shook her head. Eden still had yet to mention anything of his earlier years. "I don't think so. It's more like…what he does remember isn't actually his."

"Tifa, if Eden came about the same way Kadaj did, we may have to accept that anything he remembers is probably Sephiroth's," Vincent insisted.

"But the good news is that it's all in the past," Reeve immediately countered. "At present, all we have is a confused child with a lacking sense of identity."

Tifa lit up, just slightly. That past was at odds with Eden's present and future. She wanted to be able to believe that. "Can we even suppress something like that without hurting him?"

"Imagine losing the first eight years of your life, and being told you don't need them," Vincent proposed. As he watched her face fall and contort, he knew she got the point.

No one spoke, but Tifa's thoughts raced, trying to make sense of everything.

Memories and emotions are what make up personality. A person that exists without memories must be influenced by something, or more likely, someone. She'd already seen Cloud regain a false sense of who he was through Jenova, back when they were reunited in Midgar for the first time since Nibelheim burned. That sense, erroneously mixed in with his vows to Zack, failed when Sephiroth manipulated him into delivering the Black Materia. However, at least for him, there were real memories to recover, because he had a real past, growing up with her. Jenova only made him mimic his true personality, mixing in some of Zack's, while locking it away at the same time.

Not so for Eden. He was likely born from corrupt Lifestream, pushed into existence through Sephiroth's will, and made into a person via Jenova's mimicry. If Sephiroth had been tortured as an experimental child, it explained Eden's constant fear of impending abuse; the way he flinched and cowered at the smallest sign of adult displeasure. Then, he'd encountered Reeve, Yuffie, and herself, and what they expected of children was automatically imprinted on his subconscious. In a sense, it was all nothing but a grand act. But in another, it was just a sped-up version of how kids normally developed. It was still a cocktail of biology and experience.

Tifa realized she still had the same choice to make. Circumstances were more intimidating, but nothing had really changed. She could continue to try to raise Eden; possibly even let him know, very slowly and gently, of his nature, and try for all she was worth to show him that he could still lead a normal life. Or—

Vincent unlocked a suitcase he'd set on the floor and took out a small pencil case. Approaching her, he revealed the small syringe it carried, filled with a clear liquid. "It's quick and painless, mostly water from the church."

An increasingly popular solution among early-stage Geostigma victims was to kill themselves before they could go mad and decay. What little water there was left in Aerith's church no longer healed the illness, but when laced with a lethal chemical, it guaranteed a quiet, peaceful death. The W.R.O. didn't advertise it, but as the pandemic worsened, neither did they resist disseminating it. In Eden, it would probably be even more effective.

Solemnly, she accepted the case. Tifa knew that it would always be a potential necessity; wise to keep close at hand, no matter how much she truly hated it.

"I see you've decided," Reeve gravely remarked.

"No, I haven't. I'll do whatever I can not to use this. Even if I should, I might need someone else to do it," she explained. It didn't seem to matter what she found out about Eden, as long as he was still just a kid. Whether he was a Remnant, possessed, mentally disturbed, or all of the above, none of it proved to be enough to give up on him.

"Well, for the time being, perhaps the stories can remain stories for Marlene. I think Eden's been vague enough," Reeve suggested.

"I'll have to keep a closer eye on them," Tifa nodded in agreement, clutching the small syringe case. "I don't want to do anything desperate."

 


	8. Chosen One

As Vincent scaled the steps up to Rufus' Healen lodge, he inserted a single bullet into Cerberus' chamber. Tifa's persistent guard over Eden had sent him into overdrive where Jenova was concerned. He needed more information, and Shinra could always be counted on to hoard little snippets to himself. Trying to contact the man had proven futile; Vincent never thought he'd be forced into trying to call one person that many times. After that, he'd resorted to the Turks, and Tseng somberly informed him that Rufus' Geostigma had reappeared. Since then, Shinra had apparently isolated himself. Whether he was still sane or even alive was questionable. No one had heard from him in a full week.

Vincent hoped he wasn't too far gone, but that single shot would serve to put him out of his misery if he was. More than being blessed with the morbid opportunity to end Shinra, Vincent wanted to pry as much information out of the man as possible. Stubborn as the former ShinRa President was, he doubted Rufus would stop harboring secrets, even from allies and in the face of certain death, to retain some delusion of control. Specifically, secrets about ShinRa's former science programs would be the perfect trump card. But with Eden being allowed to live freely amongst everyone else, he and Reeve agreed that anything Jenova related needed to be quarantined and heavily guarded as soon as possible. Rufus, if anyone, had to know exactly where else the dangerous bio-matter would be stashed.

The door wasn't locked. Cautiously, Vincent stepped inside. On the far end of the room, illuminated by dim sunlight filtering in through the blinds, a hunched figure sat in a wheelchair, unmoving. If he was breathing, it was slow and shallow, nearly indiscernible. Vincent silently crept up behind Shinra and pressed the gun to the back of his head, awaiting his reaction.

This would tell him all he needed to know of Shinra's state of mind. Late-stage Geostigma victims tended to react violently against even the slightest of threats. That, and there were plenty of people who wanted him dead, who'd be more than happy not to give a warning like this. The Turks' unwritten rule of engagement—shoot to kill; threaten to negotiate—should resound well with him if he was still himself.

At that moment, Rufus Shinra believed he understood what was meant by "rock bottom"; it couldn't be a far cry from feeling the barrel of a gun against the back of his head, and being completely at ease with it. Hell, he was amused. His would-be assassin was serious too, having not made a single peep on the way. One second, Rufus was alone, and the next, he was entertaining the thought of how cordial one should act in the presence of the Reaper. Death was an opportunistic, shrewd businessman in his experience, striking wherever it pleased, but so often willing to be paid off to wait. Not unlike himself, he proudly considered, knowing he'd done the latter enough to lose count.

"Vincent Valentine, I presume. You should have called. We could have made this a public event," Rufus snidely greeted his visitor.

A dissatisfied groan announced the cancellation of today's death sentence; the gun being secured safely beneath the executioner's cloak. Of course he'd live. He was one of the Reaper's closest confidants, his company once responsible for the many highways and shortcuts it rode from victim to unwitting victim. These days, Shinra dared to believe that he might be spared to witness its final, apocalyptic act. But as his Geostigma was no longer in remission, losing his head to a blast from Cerberus' barrel had its merits as well. If he was to be a spectator for the end, he wanted to have his head on straight for the main event.

"I'll leave that up to Reeve," Vincent replied, circling Rufus, mildly surprised at how bad Shinra fared. He'd enshrouded himself again, but the bucket situated beneath his right hand to catch the run-off indicated it was no ruse this time. "The Planet is facing critical infection."

"I wasn't aware," Rufus sarcastically deadpanned, while stretching out his blackened, leaking hand to give Vincent a better look. "You'll understand that I've been otherwise occupied."

Rufus was painfully aware. His body only screamed the reminders every day. He knew that the infamous mental breakdown wasn't too far off for him; minor hallucinations were already being served cold in between meals. Next, he'd lose the capacity to work through them rationally.

"You've kept vital information from the W.R.O.," Vincent charged. "What else do you know about the Jenova Project?"

"To the contrary," Shinra laughed in between sickened coughs. "It would seem that a certain former, deceased member of our Science Division took matters into his own hands quite regularly, I'm afraid. The W.R.O. already has everything ShinRa can provide."

"Hojo?" Vincent assessed. It was obvious.

Unbeknownst to many, Professor Hojo had a disciplinary record that could span half the globe. Yet, he was considered an indispensable asset to the Jenova Project; specifically, project S. More accurately, the man knew too much for the company to want to fire or kill, and they were afraid to try to control him. It would have been too easy for the ghoulish scientist to sabotage ShinRa. "Indeed. How many unauthorized labs do you suppose we've uncovered? It's quite impressive."

Vincent glared at Rufus, in no mood for his mockingly lighthearted attitude or guessing games. "I'm not concerned with the number."

"Good. Because I've ordered anything the Turks discover to be incinerated," he smugly confessed. "If it was entirely up to me, I'd have Reeve's outpost carpet-bombed, but as long as the W.R.O. continues Geostigma research there, my hands are tied. Vincent, the number matters, because we're only stalling the inevitable."

"What do you consider 'inevitable'?"

"Jenova's Reunion. The W.R.O.'s collection could set the stage for Hojo's ideal. The man may have been depraved, but he wasn't wrong. All it would take is one breach in the stasis system. Add that to Lockhart's newly adopted son…" Rufus nervously laughed again, not even sure of what he found so funny. There was something bittersweet about utter helplessness that left one nothing but the ability to laugh at it. "Well, I'm certain Sephiroth will be pleased to see the world in such a broken, pliable state for him."

"She believes he won't follow that path," Vincent replied. He wanted nothing more than to agree with her, but he couldn't.

Yet, to force her hand seemed too cruel.

Tifa had worked too hard to build a real family, something she'd not known since Nibelheim. When she finally got it, when Cloud finally stopped longing for things that could never be changed or undone, it was only three precious years before he was ripped from her life. Deep down, Vincent understood that she saw this as a fated punishment. In the depressive aftermath of Meteor, as Vincent wandered, he'd heard that she'd been the most guilt-ridden. Tifa was quietly consumed with regret for her vengeance-driven motivations in AVALANCHE, and the innocent lives her actions had cost.

Building Seventh Heaven anew, helping Cloud with his delivery service, and being a mother to children who had none were all acts of genuine repentance on her part. The woman was hard-pressed to do anything but destroy or kill. What she hoped for now, more than anything in the wake of Cloud's death, was to try to keep living normally. Even if "normal" partly consisted of feeding, clothing, and raising a child who looked eerily like the man who'd taken everything away.

So, Vincent didn't force the issue as much as he thought he should. It went left unspoken, but he had every intention of acting in her stead not  _if_ , but  _when_  the time to euthanize Eden came. And it was coming fast. The Lifestream could only become so contaminated before they reached a point of no return, and whether she liked it or not, Eden's death was likely the key to reversing it. Tifa didn't seem to understand that the child's behavior wasn't the only factor.

But he knew that she wouldn't be consoled. There would be no telling the woman that she was actually protecting her family or the Planet by killing off one of her own children. The irony put a most bitter taste in Vincent's mouth; Tifa was the exact opposite of Lucrecia in willpower and moral fortitude. She was strong in every way that counted, but it wasn't enough to help anything or anyone, at least not as she wanted to.

"Hmph. Sephiroth knows who he can use," Rufus contemplated. "Suppose his plan is no different this time, except for one thing. Sephiroth was quite a tactician. Have you ever taken the liberty of reading his ShinRa profile, Vincent?"

"No. Whoever he was is irrelevant," Again, Vincent refused to be baited. Rufus loved watching people eat out of his hands. That was why philanthropy came so easily to him; it provided a subtle form of power and control over the world that he ever sought to overthrow. Under different circumstances, it could have easily been Shinra's ticket back into world domination, if played right. At any rate, Vincent wasn't buying.

Rufus conceded.

"Aside from inhuman strength, Sephiroth never made the same mistake twice. Almost never, if we consider Cloud. I find it interesting that he's no longer with us, don't you?" Rufus smirked, feeling oddly sadistic; more so than usual. This was all horrible news, but he just wanted to howl. "Sephiroth, always toying with his prey as he pleases, but when it's time to make the kill, he's quick, decisive…he leaves no doubt who was in control all along."

Beneath the cool comfort of his shroud, Rufus found himself dazed. Black ichor seeped from his ears, staining the part covering his head on either side. Sympathetically, Vincent felt a fool for entering as he had, ready to make life and death threats. But the uncharacteristic lack of security here told him that something wasn't right. In all honesty, he could have shown up unarmed, and gotten the same answers. Shinra was preparing to die.

And he was all but singing Sephiroth's praises. The man's mind was quickly slipping. Vincent lifted the bucket to Rufus' lap, hearing him retch. Shinra buried his face into it, trembling from the force of his heaves, panting for air.

"What do you know about Cloud's death?" Vincent asked, piteously waiting for him to catch his breath.

Retaining his dignity, Rufus sat up straight, and softly dabbed at his mouth with a moist cloth. "I'm afraid I know nothing. But we know that someone with a strong enough will can act from the Lifestream, and I believe that he has…"

Weakly, he rolled his wheelchair over to a small computer console, and pressed a few keys, unlocking it. Vincent joined him, looking over his shoulder as he pulled up a massive file on the Jenova Project. Rufus scrolled down through the list of folders with emphatic slowness, letting him see that all the information there had, in fact, been transmitted to the W.R.O. long ago. Nothing was missing.

Abruptly, he snatched back his hand from the mouse, hissing in distress. The small, white device was glued to the table with black slime. Vincent could only look on, sorry for the man. Suddenly, it didn't matter who he was or what he'd done in the past. It was still the equivalent of watching another human being melt to death. The thick cloth under which he hid was being quickly dyed with growing stains from the discharge.

"I'm sorry," Vincent started, but couldn't continue. The sight of Rufus was too odious, too pitiful for anything else.

Shinra chuckled softly, intermixed with wet, hideous gurgling. "Don't be. In fact, there's something I want you to do for me."

Outside, the peaceful, quiet late afternoon was broken by the sound of gunfire. A single shot scattered the birds that were resting in the tree limbs around Rufus' lodge, startled. Stillness returned, tense and frozen, until tendrils of positive and negative spirit energies escaped through the lodge's roof, drifting away to return to the Planet.

* * *

 

It was very tempting for Tifa to keep Cloud's desk as he'd left it: messy, dusty, and littered with energy drink cans and old candy wrappers. Then, at some point, something unpleasant with more than six legs crawled out of the home it had made of one of those cans and began snacking on the remains of a candy bar. Once that thing was done feeding, it decided that laying eggs around the food was a wise idea. Not long after, many baby grotesque things were spawned to a happy new life full of chocolate, caramel, and nuts.

And bugspray. And swatters. And consequently, paper towels and flushing toilets. At least their short little lives had been sweet. She'd shown their squirmy, wormy, leggy, fast-crawling selves too much mercy as it was.

Tifa shuddered as she unwrapped another roll. She'd fought off insect Mako mutants less disgusting. Throwing away what was left of the last thing Cloud had eaten at home was preferable to allowing those nasty bugs a place to infest. Eventually, they'd creep down into the bar or the kids' rooms, and she'd lose a lot more than memorial trash.

Now, it was time for the hard part. There were a couple of photo albums stored on top of Cloud's old desk. Tifa needed to make sure that none of her centipede visitors had crawled in between the pictures or pages. That meant she'd have to flip through every single page and review all the pictures they'd taken together. First, she thought about just giving the albums a good shake, letting the pages dangle, hoping that gravity would do the trick. But that still wouldn't help much if one of the pests decided to hide in one of the pockets.

Tifa wasn't trying to forget about Cloud. She wasn't trying to avoid his memory. She simply didn't want to resent him for leaving in a way he could never return. The stark contrast of the companionable "then" might mock the struggling loneliness of the "now". Tifa didn't want that; she wanted to be able to look at those pictures fondly, content or at least thankful that they'd been able to share  _any_  good times. It wasn't like the world was a much better place back then. With all they'd done and who they'd become, it was a miracle that time even existed for them to take those photos.

Mournful, she settled in at the desk, telling herself that she wouldn't really look; she'd just quickly flip the pages. All she'd see would be blurs of flesh tones and flashes of chocobo hair. It would be as harmless and meaningless and unassuming as turning the pages of a booze order catalogue or a wine magazine, so long as she was fast enough.

Opening only the cover, Tifa knew she was lying to herself.

Her eyes instantly glued to that first picture, on the very first page. She and Cloud were huddled close together, arms around each other's shoulders, with a four-year-old Marlene in the center, joyously bearing a wineglass full of juice. A fledgling family they were, so strange to her now, yet so familiar. The opening of the new Seventh Heaven in Edge was to signify the start of a new, average life. They'd sincerely tried, but there was still too much hanging over everyone's heads. Wrongs had been done to correct wrongs. They'd lost friends, and there was still so much regret.

It didn't really feel so different now, although it had started to. They'd only just begun to comprehend what it meant to be "better" and then—

Tifa flipped the page, angrily. Her heart was pounding. Who was she angry at? No one. Everyone. Cloud. Herself. Why weren't they ever strong enough? Marlene, for her incurable optimism. How dare she believe in them like that, no matter how much they failed? Did fate give them those happy times, only to spit in their faces and kick them while they were down once they were lost?

She felt her face twist, and tasted blood when her teeth slightly gouged the inside of her lip. A vision of fire flickered in her mind. What if…what if she just burned it?

Revenge. Childish, petty anger. If she couldn't have it, she didn't want it. Maybe she'd even learn to hate it.

Tifa suddenly felt as a foreigner to her own mind. She slammed the photo album shut and shoved it back into its place. That should kill any bugs, right?!

"I knew this would happen!" a young, spirited voice proclaimed, as if finally finding something that had been missing.

"What…Yuffie?" Tifa blanched. How much had the girl seen?

The younger woman hadn't left since Eden's story-telling incident. Reeve had ordered her to stay to help Tifa watch him. Ironically, babysitting and intelligence gathering were now rolled into one mission.

"You've been going around, acting like it's all business as usual, like nothing's wrong at all! It's about time you got pissed!" Yuffie hopped up onto Cloud's desk, swinging her feet.

"But I shouldn't…" Tifa began but was unable to conclude her excuse. It was the same as always. Wasn't it better for everyone else if she just kept those kinds of feelings inside? Didn't everyone have enough misery of their own already? It would only be selfish to add to that.

Yuffie pounced down, resting her hands on her hips. "No, no. The  _mighty_  Tifa Lockhart should never be human! She should never be angry at Cloud for leaving her to fend for herself again! I mean sure, he didn't do it on purpose this time, but the feeling is still there, isn't it? Isn't it?!"

Tifa glanced downward, guilty. If there was one sign of how much Yuffie had grown, it was this. She could read her friends like books, no matter how hard they tried to hide their thoughts from her. Her intuition was accurate to the point of being scary, and really, really annoying. No brooder, sulking person, or friends trying to protect others from themselves needlessly were safe from her prodding.

"It's not fair, I guess. Like you said, Cloud didn't do anything wrong this time," Tifa excused again, masking her embarrassment behind a calm façade.

Yuffie grimaced. If Tifa wasn't willing to vent some of her pent-up frustrations, she'd just have to force them out of her. And for that, she was thinking of aiming low. In Tifa's case, that would have to be extra low. Maybe even a little too low.

"I get it. But so what? If you're feeling it, you're feeling it! You can't just pretend you're not, because you think it's 'wrong' or you don't understand! Go break something! Shove a sword through a wall on purpose this time! Scream and cry like a big baby! You wanna know what happens to people who don't? Huh?" On a roll, Yuffie twirled Tifa's chair around to make sure the woman was looking right at her. "Heard some big military guy snapped a while back and burnt a whole town to a crispy crisp! Didn't want to talk to anyone about anything before that!"

Initially, Tifa was startled and nothing else. What in Gaia did Nibelheim have to do with anything? Then she thought of just what she was considering with those photo albums, and even though she hadn't been serious, the comparison came tumbling over her like a pile of bricks.

And it was absolutely unacceptable.

The next thing Yuffie felt was the air knocked out of her lungs as her back collided with the wall on the opposite side of the room. Tifa's fist had flashed forward for her stomach so fast she hadn't seen it coming in time to brace for it. She didn't feel the full effect of the punch until she'd landed and started coughing to catch her breath. Yuffie was still proud of herself. Her goading was a complete success, a broken rib notwithstanding. Still gasping, she managed a ragged giggle, "Ah..hah…aim for less major organs…next time…hah…"

Tifa jumped up, shocked at what she'd done almost reflexively. Really, it was just uncontrolled anger. But before she could go help her up and apologize, a pair of shining, curious Mako eyes peered around the corner, wide in surprise for the violent scene that had just unfolded. Groaning, Yuffie forced herself up on all fours, and crawled toward the boy. "Urgh….Eden, save meee! The White Rose of Wutai is dyiiing! Tifa's lost her mind!"

Just like that, what could have been a domestic dispute between friends was magically transformed into horseplay. Tifa no longer had to tell him why what she'd done was wrong. It was just some goofing off that had gotten out of hand, as far as Eden needed to know. Her only real concern was if he tried to repeat it with Marlene.

Yet, the kid wasn't frightened at all. He seemed overjoyed. Eden rubbed his hands together eagerly, gazing up at Tifa in admiration. "You're really strong," he praised her, sticking his tongue out at Yuffie.

"Awww, come on! Whose side are you on, kid? Man…"

"Yuffie, are you alright?" Tifa finally asked, mentally kicking herself. Yuffie was right; Eden shouldn't be taught, even on accident, to hold things in. Nor Marlene. Kids were always watching, always mimicking what they saw, even if their grown-ups didn't realize it.

Gripping her gut, Yuffie staggered to her feet. "So long as you are. Don't worry about me. I'll have this fixed in no time…owww…I'm just gonna go to the bathroom…"

Tifa followed her anyway, to inspect the damage she'd done. Eden anxiously followed her, lingering behind until she was done fussing over the younger woman. Growing impatient, he poked at her arm to get her attention. "Tifa, who is this?"

It seemed that one of the photographs had escaped its album when she'd put it away and fell out onto the floor. Eden had found it. Between his thumbs, Cloud posed proudly in front of his newly outfitted Fenrir. A shy smile graced his lips, the look of a modest man who'd just gotten the toy he'd wanted most since childhood. That was one of those rare times that Tifa cherished, where no demons or unsightly memories interfered. Cloud was allowed to be a big kid, showing off to his friends.

Tifa and Yuffie crouched down to take a look. "Cloud. He was someone very special to me, Eden," Tifa replied.

Wordlessly, Yuffie lifted herself back up. Bending down with her injured torso had been a bad idea.

"Where is he now? Why isn't he here anymore?" Eden narrowed his eyes, confused. Something didn't fit. There was something he was supposed to remember, and it was making him nervous. A dark, foggy night on a broken road, wandering, looking for Mother. A firm, invisible hand that held him still while the headlight of a motorcycle sped closer and closer. He'd run, hard and fast when it suddenly turned away, never looking back at the crash and strangled cries that followed. That was his part to play, and all he knew. The invisible spirit had other matters to settle and let him go.

"He's just…gone now," Tifa murmured.

Eden understood. It was written in how Yuffie turned the other way to hide the tears in her eyes, and how Tifa didn't have the nerve just to come out and say it. It was further confirmed in how they quietly nodded to one another, and Tifa gently led him back into the other room.

"I'm sorry, Tifa," Eden whispered. Not that he was sorry for this Cloud person; he felt deeply that he shouldn't be sorry about him; that it was, in some mysterious way, better that he was gone. But he was terribly sorry for how sad it made Tifa and Yuffie. "I won't go anywhere, though. I promise."

A flash of light flickered in Eden's sight, and a low buzz resonated in his ears. Cloud… _Cloud._  Mother knew of Cloud. Humming and scratching in the corners of his mind, the impression was clear. Mother abhorred Cloud. Why? The answer was beyond his grasp, locked inside the internal presence with which Eden felt he was meant to become as one. But that was okay. So long as he could still stay with Tifa. So long as nothing ever took her or Marlene away. Yes, he intended to keep them, no matter what.

"No, I won't let anything happen to you," Tifa swore, pulling the boy closer for a loose hug.

Tifa could now mostly abandon the thought that he'd been responsible for Cloud's death. The child was ignorant, or at least had no memory of it. It was ridiculous to begin with. Even if Eden happened to possess abnormal strength, what exactly could that amount to, in his small body? The strength of an average man, at best. Nothing that could have ended Cloud so brutally, so torturously.

He felt the tremble in her embrace; heard her sigh in relief. The air in the room suddenly grew heavy, and he felt more than just her arms around him. Eden also perceived her distrust, her knowledge of what he was, and her deep, abiding fear for and of him. Subconscious energy flowed from her like a data stream into his conscious mind, teaching him bits and fragments of the truth she'd been too afraid to speak. Blurry memories of a tall man in a black coat, with long, platinum hair and a long sword flooded his recollection. He knew then, that this was the past, but also the future; what he sought in joining with Mother. Before the moment could end, he clung to that memory, and burned it into the forefront of his thoughts. As quickly as it had come, the vision faded, receding into Tifa's spirit.

Stepping back suddenly, Tifa felt as though she'd just woken up from a deep sleep. How long had she been holding onto Eden? Something was still amiss. She felt emotionally anesthetized; careless, but vaguely aware. A subtle, stealthy existence had reached into her mind, flicking off her inhibition to its presence, sifting her soul for whatever it sought. At least, that was the impression she had.

Then, Eden reached up and touched her cheek, smoothing away a tear, as she'd done for him so many times. "You're afraid, aren't you? Because you know…"

"I know?" Tifa mumbled, still trying to shake the disoriented feeling.

"Yes…But Tifa, when Mother makes me whole…will we still be friends? Can we? I really like you…" Eden continued.

She couldn't have felt colder if she'd been skydiving over the Great Glacier. Did Eden realize what he was asking? Tifa strove to convince herself that he must not; tried to draw a more positive conclusion from his expression, but she couldn't. The boy's face was earnest, pleading, but above all else, dead serious. So, she opted for a little white lie to placate him. "Eden, I'll always be your friend…"

Always, as long as he was still just sweet, mischievous little Eden. It took everything she had not to avoid his gaze, which seemed to increase in intensity for every strained second, but she knew she was locked in. It wasn't childish or naïve; it was calm but calculating. Who was she talking to right now? Eden, yes, but there was something else there. Something or someone that watched and waited; something that was biding its time, planning.

But it could also just be stress making her over-think the child's words and expressions. It was getting harder and harder to dismiss the cataclysmic extent of the outbreak. People were talking about the end of the world in almost the same tone they had back when Meteor fell. Times like this made it easy to be paranoid, because very little constituted real paranoia. Maybe she was just losing control of her anxiety? Tifa was much more comfortable with that idea, but for the moment, it didn't seem likely.

The psychic numbness lingered still, as two more tears leaked out beyond her awareness, dripping softly onto her hands. "Don't cry, Tifa. You're safe. He has chosen you… Even if you can't stand it…" Small hands cupped her face, drying them again. Although the words carried a definite threat, Eden's voice cooed, as if to tempt her into asking more, "His will can endure in your place."

Then, Eden fainted.

Tifa barely regained her bearings in time to keep him from falling hard onto the floor. Clear-headed once more, she regarded the child in her arms with frightened wonder. Done mending herself, Yuffie walked in to see only that.

"Whoa! What happened?"

 


	9. Blind Follower

"Please wake up."

Marlene fidgeted with Eden's limp hand, squeezing it in hopes of rousing her comatose friend. He'd been asleep for two whole days now, and she was starting to fear this was going to be yet another goodbye. The tips of his fingers were chilly, fomenting her unease. Only the steady rise and fall of the boy's chest reassured her that he wasn't gone.

Tifa and Reeve looked on, standing in the entrance of his shaded room. It wasn't difficult for the W.R.O. leader to see why Tifa defended Eden so fiercely. For all the child's fearsome, impulsive personality swings, and the ominous or bizarre things he said while having them, at the end of the day, he remained a helpless little boy who  _still_  had yet to lay a wrong finger on anyone.

And he was so very isolated, for the most part. The neighbors refused to allow their children near him, too easily reminded of the three malicious characters of three years ago. One father had gone so far as to mock Eden on his son's behalf. After that, Eden stayed inside under Tifa's close guard and watch willingly, but it proved rather pointless. Incidentally, the same man died of Geostigma complications the very next day, and everyone was certain that it had to be the "demon child's" doing; Eden's fault.

But Tifa was also lucky. Many of her bar patrons thought her damn near heroic for the kind of opposition she faced. That being said, they were still too cowardly to bring their own kids over to play with Eden, but they were civil enough. Most weekends, he wound up with enough gifted candy to share with Marlene for the rest of the week.

For now, Tifa settled on calling Eden's most recent episode something of a nervous breakdown. She wasn't naïve enough simply to wish his Reunion Instinct away or pretend it didn't exist; she never denied the kid had an obvious connection to Sephiroth. Even though his coma was the only physical symptom, she knew it was because that instinct was demanding fulfillment. All she really had to counter all those facts was a sort of maternal faith that Eden was no mere avatar for the world's nemesis. Tifa feared it might soon be his undoing, though; the Planet was fighting a bitter war, and Eden's biology was on the wrong side.

Quietly, Reeve stepped forward to check on him. Although he lay infirm, he mused on how much healthier the boy had grown since Tifa had adopted him. He was still small for his age, but any sign of frailty aside from that was completely diminished.

"Can you help him?" Marlene asked, pleading with anxious eyes. She didn't know Reeve very well, only that he was the man behind the most awesome plushy on the face of the Planet, Cait Sith. He'd used it to help Tifa and Cloud even when he was still with the ShinRa, and he was probably Vincent's closest friend. It was enough to garner her trust.

Reeve gently lifted one of Eden's eyelids. Beneath, it was fully dilated; the iris a dull sea green. "I can try." He wasn't used to consoling children; entertaining them behind the scenes was more his specialty. "So can you. He might even know you're here. That should encourage him."

Marlene sadly smiled at Reeve's nervous attempt to cheer her up. Tenderly, she touched Eden's forehead, remembering when Denzel had been in much the same position. Yet, she knew Eden was different, and in so many ways. Sometimes, he said things that really bothered Tifa, just out of nowhere. She knew he couldn't help it but didn't understand why. Marlene wondered if maybe he'd said something really weird this time, and that falling asleep was how he was hiding from getting in trouble. Eden was tricky enough to pull something like that off. Maybe there wasn't really anything wrong with him after all.

But what if there was? Who could help him? Aerith's face passed through Marlene's mind then, and she softly whimpered, because somehow, she knew that the flower girl couldn't do for him as she'd done for Denzel. She thought of Eden fading away into the Lifestream and frowned. Was that really the only way?

"Mm..ngh…" Her poking elicited a small sound from the boy, though he lay perfectly still.

"Eden?" she chirped, nearly tripping over herself when she stood up. Balancing, it was plain for her to see he was out cold.

Tifa appeared at her side, sharing in her disappointment. And she was entirely on edge, because she couldn't predict in which state he'd awaken. It was just as easy to imagine him waking up in the mood for dessert before dinner, and making no secret of it, as it was to envision him rising to continue on a tirade of foreboding promises from a third person she didn't want to name.

" _He has chosen you…"_  Tifa remembered that part all too clearly and shuddered.

She'd much rather pretend she hadn't heard those words, and wished she wasn't obligated to consider their meaning. Having her consciousness probed like that left her feeling strangely helpless, in some horrific blend of utter violation and inferiority. It was as if that thing, that force, had simply done what was in its power to do, and that no one— _no one—_ dared to question its right in doing so.

No, Tifa wasn't afraid of Eden. She reminded herself of that constantly. She was afraid  _for_  him, but absolutely petrified of his capacity to be used.

"Maybe we should just let him rest, Marlene."

"But he's already done that!" the girl pouted, standing her ground.

"Sleeping doesn't mean resting all the time. You know how you feel when you have nightmares, and you wake up feeling sleepy?" Tifa tried to explain.

"He's having nightmares?"

"I think so." That was the perfect way to describe what she thought was going on with him. Nightmares.  _The_  Nightmare. "That's why he says some of those funny things."

"Eden…" Marlene murmured, worried. "But doesn't that mean we should try to wake him up even harder? To make the nightmare go away?"

"Not if it comes from having a hard time thinking about a problem. Some dreams have to be worked out," Reeve tried to help.

Marlene had a hard time trusting that the grown-ups knew what they were talking about just then. Eden's stories were made of his dreams; she was sure of it, and they were far from nightmarish. There might be some trying, and even some failing, but the perfect, happy ending was always well within sight.

She stared out the window pensively at the first stars to blink into being. She'd been having dreams of her own lately, too. The thoughts were so strange; alien, but wonderful. Only a short while ago, she was content to behold the world around her, but now, all she could do was gaze in longing at the night sky. How long would it take to get there, to the center of the universe; the Promised Land?

But she knew she had to be quiet about those thoughts, because they came from some of the mysterious things that Eden said. Sometimes, they were the same things that seemed to upset Tifa, although she didn't want to talk very much about it. Maybe it was because of how badly she missed Cloud?

* * *

 

At three in the morning, a ghost in the shape of a nine-year-old girl glided down the hallway, clinging tightly to her sheets, lest the sleeping woman of the house stir and be frightened to death by her true appearance. Marlene picked up her bedcovers a little, bunching them around her knees, afraid they could catch on something and give her away. She stepped lightly past Tifa's room, comforted by the slow, deep breaths that emanated from behind the door. Tifa didn't always sleep soundly, but it looked like fortune was on Marlene's side this time.

Tonight, the spirit lingered in the world of the living to oversee the well-being of the boy in the room just a little further down. Kind of like how Aerith once lingered in her church, Marlene thought. She wondered what the flower maiden was up to, in the Lifestream. Tifa told her that there was a battle going on inside of the Planet, and that's why things had gotten so scary on the surface again. But they only had to sit tight and wait for things to get better, because Cloud was with her now, and he could help. Setting those thoughts aside, she slowly opened Eden's door. About halfway through, the hinges gave off a small squeak, and Marlene froze.

She listened for any sign of Tifa waking up, but there was nothing. She considered that maybe Tifa was awake, but stayed in bed, because she just thought that one of them had to go to the bathroom. Would it be worth it to walk all the way to the bathroom to flush the toilet for appearances' sake? Marlene decided it was probably too dangerous and opted to listen for a few minutes longer before opening the door wide enough to squeeze through.

Inside, Eden hadn't moved. In fact, she could have sworn he was in the exact same position as when she'd been made to leave for the evening. Gingerly, she crawled onto the foot of his bed, and curled up by his feet, afraid to disturb him, but wanting to be close by in case he woke up. She cocooned herself in her sheets, wishing she'd brought a pillow, and perhaps a plushy. Not just for herself; for Eden too. His room was far too devoid of stuffed animals and toys in general. A black chocobo plush would be just right for him, she figured. Next time she talked to Tifa, they would have to conspire together to make it happen.

"Wake up…!" she softly begged him, closing her eyes. Marlene hated admitting it, but she was awfully tired. It took a lot of trying to stay awake this late, and in the dark. Her eyes burned from reading in the dim moonlight to pass the time, and she'd given herself quite a headache.

She didn't regret it, though, even if it meant getting in a little trouble in the morning. No one, not even Tifa, could tell her that being this concerned for Eden was wrong. It was just like back when she was four, and her daddy stayed with her all night because she had a high fever, even though all the others were planning a really important mission. This was no different. Someone should stay by Eden's side, too. So what if he wasn't burning up? It was still obvious he was sick. What if something really bad happened, and he got worse without anyone knowing?

Too sleep deprived, Marlene's worries played havoc with her emotions. All she could do was try to suppress the sniffles and choke back the harder sobs, as she rubbed at her wet face with one of her sheets. Ashamed and even more afraid of being caught, she threw it over her head. Just what was she doing here? Tifa had told her to let him rest for a reason. It's not like she didn't care about Eden. Now, Marlene wondered if being here was only making it worse for him. Would hearing her cry make his nightmares last even longer? Marlene suddenly felt oppressively guilty. What she was doing was very selfish and could be bad for Eden.

Somehow, the choice had been much simpler earlier. She wanted to see him, and watching out for him was a good idea, too. If he woke up, she wanted to be there for that. The latter was all that was really left, now. Much to her conscience's chagrin, it was enough to keep her tightly balled up at the end of Eden's bed.

Then, someone pulled the covers from her head. It had to be Tifa. Marlene dared not open her eyes, hoping that feigning sleep might get her in less trouble. The inevitable lecture might even be spared until morning, if she saw how tired she was. Not a word would sink in, with how drowsy she was.

"Marlene?" the boy's voice croaked, dry and hoarse.

Timidly, Marlene peeked up at him. He looked confused, and probably about a lot of things, like what day or night it was, how he'd gotten to bed, and why she was laying at his feet like a loyal pup. "I was worried," was all she could say.

"Why?" he rasped, sorely scooting his legs over the side of his mattress. Eden was parched, thirsty enough for most of his questions to wait.

"Well…you went to sleep for a long time. I was afraid you weren't going to wake up again." Marlene wriggled out from beneath her sheets, wrapping them around her shoulders.

"A…long time?" Eden's eyes widened slightly.

Eden swallowed, and hopped lightly off of his bed. He stepped for the door, but his knees almost gave out. In a flash, Marlene was there to support him.

"Careful!" she cried, no longer caring if Tifa heard them, offering her shoulder as a crutch.

Tentatively, Eden leaned against her, and they hobbled down to the kitchen together. Marlene wasted no time in finding the biggest cup she could and filling it to the brim with ice cold water. He all but tore it from her hands, desperate. Bringing it to his mouth, Eden spilled a little down the front of his shirt, and some dripped onto the floor, but it was worth it. The chilled liquid almost burned at first, but after that, he couldn't get enough. While he chugged, Marlene dutifully cleaned up his mess. Normally, doing that would have been nothing but annoying, but right now it was a sign he was going to be okay, so she didn't mind.

Lapping up the last precious droplets, Eden dropped to the cool linoleum floor, sighing heavily. Marlene nearly jumped out of her skin, thinking he'd just collapsed, but he smirked tiredly at her, patting the spot next to him. Once she made sure it wasn't wet, she joined him, feeling really awkward for some reason. Why was her face so warm, and her hands so fidgety? Eden interrupted her peculiar thoughts, claiming her shoulder as a makeshift pillow, resting his forehead. He was just weak, that's all.

"Thanks, Marlene," he murmured, trying to sort out his jumbled memories from when he'd last been awake. He remembered quite a bit, but only in flashes of nonsensical scenery. None of it fit together. A man, walking away contentedly into a great fire. Tifa, catching him after one of his strange experiences with his inner being. Her face, contorted between two kinds of fear. And then, there was only blackness.

A lot of information had been poured into his mind, and he couldn't handle it. One thing he retained a solid grip on was that Tifa knew a lot more about him than she was willing to tell. She also knew about the man in the vision. But he also remembered that she kept those things a secret to protect him. So, he'd do her the same favor, since they scared her. He'd just pretend he hadn't learned so much. Eden didn't want to hurt Tifa.

"Are you alright?" Marlene meekly responded, lightly stroking the back of his head. They were even now; she'd lain at his feet, and now she was petting him.

Eden twitched slightly at her touch, but then settled on allowing her to comfort him. He was feeling too beat to make fun of her for it at the moment, and her girlish ministrations actually felt kind of nice. Plus, it appeared he'd gained an interesting ability since sleeping. He could feel the anxiety flowing off of her, although the tiny waves of conscious energy from Marlene were far less disturbing than what he'd felt transmitted through Tifa. In short, the poor girl was nothing less than terrified for him. "Yeah…I can't die anyway," he spouted casually.

"Eden…that's silly."

"No, it's not. You're just not used to it," Eden yawned, and he could feel Marlene assume his words were spoken in exhaustion, or perhaps make believe. Leaning back from her, the transmission of conscious thought was broken, and his mind was quiet once more.

Eden didn't know if he liked being able to do this. As exciting or fun as it promised to be, it scared him a little. What if his inner existence interfered every time he got too close to Tifa now? He didn't know if he could control it, but he couldn't bring himself to hate it. This was how it was supposed to be; it was clearly a gift from Mother, he realized. She would never send him such things if it wasn't meant to help him find her. He should be happy she trusted him with something so wonderful.

Marlene felt warm and heavy; Eden's yawning inspired her to do the same, reminding her again of the fact that she was long overdue for bedtime. "Everyone returns to the Planet eventually…Can I go to bed now?"

Grinning wickedly, Eden stood and helped her to her feet. "Can you?" he mocked. The idea of holding her still, and not letting her go to her room right away crossed his mind, but he thought better of it. Hilarious as that might be, she might forget herself, and make that funny little girl whine she always did when he had the upper hand. That would undoubtedly wake Tifa up, and Eden preferred to reintroduce his awakened self more politely.

"Uh..huh…" she slurred, and dragged herself back down the hall. That annoying little monster would be just fine.

* * *

 

The kids had been up late last night. Tifa knew Marlene had weaseled her way into Eden's room, but something told her to let them be. Even when she'd heard them cautiously tiptoeing into the kitchen, she only continued to listen very carefully to be sure Eden didn't pass back out or phase into one of his…what should she call them? Remnant episodes? He never really seemed to do it around Marlene; at least not in the same semi-sinister manner. Only after their little noises faded did she rise to check that they were both safely in bed.

This morning, Barret sat before her, having dropped in unexpectedly. He wore the face of a man who'd been tried and found guilty of unspeakable things. In his own mind, she knew he had. He could hardly lift his eyes, and his shoulders sagged from the near-literal weight of the news he bore.

She was still shocked. This couldn't be right…

"Don't want Marlene to hafta see this. Not sure what I'm supposed to tell her…" The darker patch of skin on his forearm was hardly incriminating; he could easily get away with telling others it was a birthmark or burn for now.

But the burst of sickly, contaminated Lifestream at the oil fields on the Northern Continent two days ago ensured he knew better. He'd been up half of the first night, scrubbing the vile Mako sludge away. Yet, there remained a sweaty sheen where it had been that simply wouldn't wash off. Barret had hoped against hope it was just an odd Mako burn, but the next day, the shiny spot had given way to what could have been mistaken as a dirt smudge. So luckily, no one questioned it then either. It was an oil field and survey-who with the slightest will to work in it would be left completely fresh and clean? Certainly not the very leader of the operation.

He would have considered amputating the arm then and there, but that would leave him quite debilitated. And he knew damn well that the mark was merely an external indicator. He'd have about the same luck if he chose to chop off his legs instead. It wouldn't help.

"No…you're right…" Tifa started, searching for the right words, struggling to swallow the information. This couldn't be happening. "She shouldn't have to…but, you know Marlene will figure it out," she whispered.

The kids needed to sleep just a little longer; their bad behavior last night was actually helping so far.

"Thing is, I dunno if I even can see her, Tifa. I know they say it ain't contagious. But shit, I worry what I might be doin' just sittin' here with you. Who's gonna take care of her if…" Barret stopped himself and shook his head. It was either this or giving them a phone call; telling his little girl in the most delicate way possible that daddy was never coming back.

It was worth the risk to be here, to see her one last time.

Mentally distracting herself, Tifa refilled Barret's coffee mug, and he heartily slurped the nutty-smelling brew down. Barret knew he was one of the rarer, lucky cases. Whether it was Gaia's mercy or his larger body mass, he didn't know, but unlike the vast majority, he still had his head on completely straight, and he wasn't being eaten alive by the Stigma nearly as fast. For now, it was content to nibble mostly at his good arm. A dull ache throughout his body was the only hint of the impending cellular breakdown.

"Barret, think of how many Geostigma- infected kids I was around last time?" Tifa calmly pointed out, crossing her arms, but in reality, she wanted to scream. This had gone far past the point of being simply distressing or morbidly ironic. First Cloud, then Barret. Both of the men who'd led AVALANCHE while she was with the group would be gone soon. Of course, there was also Rufus Shinra, which hadn't affected her quite as deeply, but he was still someone she'd known. Who was next? Many of her regulars at the bar were disappearing too, and she didn't have to guess why.

"Hehe. Guess I'm here to say my goodbyes. Probably the only reason I'm not nothin' but a puddle yet," Barret agreed.

"She'll be happy to see you," Tifa encouraged him up the stairs. What else was she supposed to say?

Barret replied with a small, tense grunt, and stomped his way up. He tried not to think about what this visit with his daughter was really all about. At least at first, Marlene might be pleasantly surprised he'd stopped by.

But Marlene knew things. One of those things was the way Barret carried himself when something particularly awful was underway. That tell-tale stomp up the stairs was all she needed as a warning for how he appeared when he entered her room. She was already sitting up, rubbing her eyes for the precious few hours of sleep she'd gotten. In happier times, that wouldn't have prevented the girl from leaping up to give her daddy a welcoming hug or begging him to tell her all about his travels. Not now. She shakily set aside her blanket, slowly blinking her tired, glazed eyes at the heavy-hearted man.

"…Daddy?"

"Hey, Marlene. Been a while…" Barret feigned an itch on his back to keep his guilty arm out of her line of sight.

"Yeah…" Marlene nodded, but eyed him more intensely, anxious; waiting for the proverbial bomb to drop.

Barret cleared his throat, and delicately sat down next to her, subconsciously fearful that everything he touched was too unclean for his daughter to be near. "Daddy's goin' on a real long trip this time. Don't know when I'll make it back…" Uncomfortably, he laid out his arm for her to see.

She whined slightly, but bit back the urge to cry. "How long?" Marlene pushed, but it was more of a protest.

"Real long, Marlene. Might get to see some old friends, though."

"Cloud?"

"Heh. Mebbe." It never ceased to amaze him how quickly his little girl caught onto things. She was so strong and smart, but he doubted he had anything to do with it. It was probably Tifa, or maybe inherited from Dyne and Eleanor, even if he wanted to believe he'd done  _something_  right by her.

"Then…tell him it was rude leaving all of a sudden!" Marlene yelled. She wasn't truly angry with Cloud; she knew he didn't die on purpose but ranting about the unfairness of it all was comforting, and for the tiniest second, it helped her not think about what was going to happen to her dad. "Tifa misses him so much…" Just as she was going to miss Barret. There was no avoiding it.

Barret scraped his boots on the floor, feeling so low. He was letting his family down. "It's kinda mean of me, too. Can't say I wanna do it, but sometimes you just hafta…With everything comin' and goin' from the Planet, better watch out if you get a big dog. Might just be me." No matter what he said to try to soften the blow for her, it was all wrong.

The idea of Barret as a canine only caught Marlene off her guard momentarily. A hiccup of laughter escaped her, before the looming sadness moved back in. She didn't want a big dog. She wanted her father. "I'll try not to cry too much, so it's not too hard for you to return to the Planet…"

Barret pulled his young daughter into a bear hug, snorting to keep from weeping into her hair. "You cry all you need to, Marlene."

Marlene had never been more frightened in all her life. She was too young to remember when her mother had died back in Corel, and never saw her real father after that. Barret and Tifa basically took their place. They were the closest to parents she had, and now she was losing one of them way, way too soon. It felt a lot more real this time, like sinking endlessly in quicksand, waiting to be buried, but never quite reaching that point, all the while knowing that the dead or dying were right underfoot. She was trapped, completely immobile, and there was no way to wiggle loose to dig for and save who she was losing.

She knew her dad was feeling the same way, so she sniffed hard, and forced back the tears again, like she always did, because crying right now would make it hurt more for both of them. And she didn't want to know what it felt like to cry over a lost father. Marlene wasn't ready to face that yet.

"Are you going to say goodbye to Tifa, too?" Marlene mumbled.

He would. It would be brief and awkward, split between telling her to stay strong for Marlene and saying that she had to deal with one death at a time, no matter how fast old friends and family were dropping off. As if there existed any other choice for her. When he left Seventh Heaven for the very last time, he'd feel like an utter failure.

For now, Barret just wanted to stretch out his final moments with Marlene as long as he could.

* * *

 

Seventh Heaven and its residents were somber; quiet. Downstairs, the only drinkers were Yuffie and Tifa, sourly reminiscing about Barret's goofier exploits in AVALANCHE. After Marlene told Tifa she wanted to be left alone, she was left little else to do but face the newest layer on what seemed like an ever-growing pile of grief. She didn't begrudge Marlene the need to sort this experience out for herself. There was a big difference between Cloud's and Barret's deaths for both of them. This one was clearly harder for Marlene. All Tifa could do was remind her that she wasn't alone, promising she'd be in to check on her every so often. As usual, Yuffie had shown up with impeccable timing, and once night fell, the shot glasses came down.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Eden was thinking about being less respectful of Marlene's wishes. She hadn't been out of her room all day, and even now, he could see that it was dark in there. True, Tifa had kindly asked him to let her be, once she'd breathed a sigh of relief that he'd come to. Eden didn't want to make her mad or worry her more on top of everything else but being told to stay away from his best friend while she was so down was just unthinkable. Absurd. He couldn't torture her at all as long as she was like that. He had no intention of following  _those_ orders.

He crept inside, clinging to the wall to stay concealed. In her room's only empty corner, Marlene had pulled down a small lamp from her dresser, using it to illuminate only the circle of space around her. She lay on the floor, focused on a coloring pad, oblivious to her intruder. Eden contented himself with just watching her for a few minutes. Nearby, he noticed a small waste bin, loaded with used tissues. A fresh box of them sat right next to her colored pencils, along with a crumpled-up pile of artwork she'd given up on. Off to her other side, a used plate sat, from when Tifa had brought her dinner.

"Marlene," he called out to her in a half-whisper, nervously inching closer, "I'm here."

Languidly, the girl lifted her head, batting away a few strands of hair that had glued themselves to her face with her tears. She'd not even bothered to have Tifa plait it today. Since he'd gone, she'd been doing exactly what her daddy told her to do, cry as much as she needed, although she wondered if that might take forever.

"Eden," she murmured his name, entirely unfazed. She'd seen the pout behind his mask of obedience to Tifa's request outside her door, hours earlier. It would only be a matter of time before he could no longer stand to wait. Eden never asked for much, but at the same time, he didn't do very well with being told "no". That, and as carefully as he'd hidden himself in the shadows, it didn't stop her from noticing a sliver of hallway light suddenly streaming through her cracked open door. He wasn't always as stealthy as he fancied himself.

She stared at him, laying her cheek against the backs of her hands. Fresh tears raced across her face, but she didn't move. Eden perched beside her, torn between curiosity for her rare mood, and empathetic sadness.

"Don't worry. He's coming back," he said gently, as though pronouncing some otherworldly comfort she'd not heard before.

Almost disdainful, Marlene turned her back to him. She didn't need another reminder of her dad's idea of returning from the Planet as a dog. Most of the pictures she'd drawn were of puppies, and none of them were good enough. She didn't want to think about how, once he passed on, he'd never again really be who he once was, unless Gaia decided to keep him. "I don't care."

Behind her, Eden reclined, supporting himself on the palms of his hands, gazing at the ceiling thoughtfully, patiently. "In the Lifestream…there's this powerful being, waiting…" In the Lifestream, but also, within his own mind. He'd spare Marlene that detail, though. There was no point in confusing the poor thing. It was twisted enough for him as it stood.

Marlene rolled back over, if only to hear what he was going to say. She'd been waiting for an empty platitude about the cycle of nature, like on all those sympathy cards Tifa got when Cloud died. But this was something else. Eden smile softly, pleased with her change of heart.

"Because of him, everyone who dies from Geostigma is going to be reborn together. And then, they'll all go to the Promised Land as one. Who knows? You might get to see him again. Sort of, anyway." Eden's stare intensified skyward, and he fell silent.

He balled his hands and sighed. Cool energy tingled up his spine; there was something so very right in the thought of all that spirit energy combined as one, together as the power and glory of the one who'd captured them. And then, he'd fly through the cosmos to the Promised Land to be perfected. Therein, that being would be transformed into the ultimate life form of ultimate life forms, flawless and without contention. Six broad, pure white wings; two proud golden halos…the sign of interstellar divinity...

Then, a dry tissue swiped quickly over his chin, shattering his trance. Marlene quickly disposed of the thing, scowling at him. "Daydreaming isn't supposed to be that gross. You were drooling  _again_ , Eden!"

"Huh? Oh, sorry…" Eden flushed, smacking at his face to be sure she got it all.

Marlene giggled. The boy looked every bit like a sleepy kitten honed in on its favorite shiny toy when he spaced out like that. Regardless of whatever he'd been dreaming about, she was glad that he'd chosen to invade her mourning time. Even though it was still so very heavy, it didn't hurt quite as bad now.

She also didn't feel so lonely anymore, because as he'd mentally vacated the building, Eden had been quietly calling for his mother the whole time. As strange and creepy as it should have been, Marlene believed he knew exactly how she felt.

"You can stay, if you want. I won't tell Tifa you didn't listen."

 


	10. Deep Incursion

A column of black smoke ascended from the outskirts of Edge, barely noticeable in Tifa's periphery. If she turned her head about thirty degrees, she could make out a few wounded city blocks that were all but abandoned, some simply boarded up and condemned for neglect, and others heavily guarded and quarantined for clean-up. Behind her, towering above it all, there stood the ever-crumbling remains of Midgar, the headstone for the most colossal tomb on the face of Gaia.

Death and decay were all around, but the streets below still echoed with the sound of motor bikes and delivery trucks. In late afternoon, children still wandered up apartment stair wells and down short-cut alleyways, coming home from school or stealing away to secret hideouts with friends. At least, the ones whose parents were still willfully blind enough or in denial of the dangers lurking in every crevice of the city did. Tifa didn't blame them for not wanting to face the cold reality of the world, as it all but mandated fear for their very lives. Yet, she wouldn't dare to try to send Marlene to school, knowing that an infected, insane classmate might send her home much worse than merely bullied. Eden was too risky to try to send at all; he might not come home alive. Playing ignorant for comfort's sake would only make matters worse.

From the roof of Seventh Heaven, Tifa gazed at the least eventful horizon her eyes could find, trying to ignore the distant wail of emergency sirens, or the putrid retching from the window three or four houses down. She was trying to pretend that she was just enjoying a normal, quiet afternoon with the kids. Gaia played along, sending a soft breeze to flip her hair to one side, while a sparrow perched on a light pole in front of the building. The sky wasn't bleeding, and the ground wasn't shaking; gentle rays of sunlight flickered in and out from between puffy cumulus clouds overhead, careless of the bleak state of man's affairs. She had to question for a second if that's really how it was. Would it be advantageous for the Planet to forsake the life of humanity, and hoard its reserves of spirit energy for less intelligent, less potentially destructive life forms?

Tifa brushed her bangs out of her eyes and turned back to the kids. Eden and Marlene eagerly hovered over a small fire pit, clutching balsa wood skewers topped off with huge, fist-sized marshmallows. Impatiently, Eden stuffed an uncooked one into his mouth whole, while impaling two more onto his stick, shoving the one Tifa had put on for him further down. Marlene snorted and giggled at his overloaded face as he struggled to chew on it, eyeing the bag in thoughts of trying something similar, but she decided against it. The chocolate and grahams were her favorite part. Marshmallow melting was the most fun, though.

All they needed now was for Tifa to light the fire.

"Is everything okay, Tifa?" Marlene asked, wondering what could have drawn her attention away from them so abruptly.

"It's nothing, Marlene. Looks like there was a small fire on the other side of town, that's all," Tifa replied. There was so much more out of sorts; the scenery deteriorated every day, but still just slow enough to tell a child it was nothing to worry about.

"Mm. Okay," Marlene looked back at Eden, and found that his skewer was turning into a veritable marshmallow shish kebob, now sporting five of the puffy treats.

Of course, he retracted his hand from the bag when Tifa noticed his unfolding plan, knowing she'd probably not approve, but hoping she might be a little impressed. Much to his dismay, she only smiled at him wryly, and proceeded to deprive him of all but the first marshmallow, plucking them off one by one. "You'll burn yourself when they start to melt, silly. Save that for the chocolate."

Eden scowled, but accepted her answer after quickly reevaluating the size of the crackers. It really wouldn't work, and he hadn't thought of where he was going to put all of them. It was just too bad that she wasn't going to let his idea for a flaming marshmallow torch happen.

"Told you so," Marlene sang quietly, as Tifa busied herself with throwing lit matches into the pit. Eden rewarded her by prodding at her arm with his skewer's sharp end. "Oww! Hey! Tifa! Eden's poking me!"

"It's not my fault," he defended, pointing at the marshmallow bag. "Her dress makes her look like one of them."

"Edeeen!" Marlene wailed, red in the face with embarrassment. He'd finally done it. She prided herself on being a good, helpful, quiet girl, but she was screaming at the top of her lungs because of him!

Which, naturally, was exactly what he wanted, betrayed by a self-satisfied smirk that he failed to suppress. Tifa sighed and poked lightly at the center of his forehead with her pointer finger. "I know those bright little eyes of yours can tell the difference. Behave."

"Do I have to…?" Eden quietly mumbled, rolling his skewer between the palms of his hands.

"Yes, you do. If you don't, you might not get any marshmallows at all. Guess I'll just have to give all of yours to Yuffie this time," she calmly pronounced his punishment, knowing he'd sooner scrub every inch of the bar's kitchen before forsaking his beloved marshmallows, and especially to his junk food rival. Sometimes, Tifa couldn't believe the size of the sweet tooth the kid had, but it worked wonderfully as a trump card when he didn't really want to settle down.

As predicted, Eden shook his head in the negative, an almost frightened look on his face. Protectively, he hugged the soft, squishy bag. "Sorry Marlene. I'll try to be nice."

Marlene laughed, quickly forgetting her annoyance with him. Try as she might, it was impossible to stay mad at him.

Putting the finishing touches on the fire, Tifa offered them an approving smile, but she wasn't quite so amused. Although times like this weren't such a big deal, it was akin to what made her skin crawl the most, especially since the experience she'd had with Eden after cleaning out Cloud's desk. He mentally and emotionally disarmed those he could get close to with such incredible ease. She hadn't started looking for it until recently, but once she did, it was almost like his entire behavior pattern was coordinated toward doing exactly that from the very start. It might be paranoia in part, but Tifa could no longer overlook the fact that no matter what he said or did, he was always too scared, too forgetful, or even too adorable in the aftermath of his bizarre behavior for suspicion to stick very easily.

A tight little ball formed in the pit of Tifa's stomach for her uncertainty. If she watched only how he acted, she could almost see the strings attached to his every limb, leading down into a dark, murky pool of corrupt Lifestream. Yet, if she looked at him, at his form and his carriage, she saw a little boy with less than auspicious origins, pushed and pulled mercilessly between his current surroundings and love ones and the ceaseless beckon of a malicious entity fond of being called "Mother".

Either way, every time she started to let herself believe his connection to Sephiroth was fairly loose, he'd do or say something to remind her of the gut-wrenching truth. After last time, Tifa wasn't so sure she could forget; wasn't certain it was safe. Gaia, it was like knowing she was being spied on, but being forced to write it off because the spy's means of doing so were just so unbelievable! Because the possibility existed that it was all some stress-induced delusion, she always had to think twice, and never came up with any definite answers. Thus, her trust in Eden wilted away, all while her protectiveness of him increased exponentially.

But then, there was also Marlene. Smiling and humming and playing along with Eden, she barely registered the level of grief over her father's passing Tifa thought she would; that she  _should._  It was as if after that first night, she'd just accepted it. There was nothing normal about that; no one in their right mind switches from raw bereavement back to normal, everyday living in the space of a single night.

Marlene was hardly depressed anymore at all. The only hint at a reason why had come that morning—

" _Daddy's going to come back, Tifa. Eden says that everyone who was sick will come back together, as part of something amazing. I don't think I need to be sad…"_

It was one thing that Eden was able to tear down Marlene's guard in play. All that meant was that he was a smart kid who knew how to instigate and manipulate. Tifa had already once or twice considered what heartbreaker he might turn out to be, once he came of age. But those were normal thoughts for the future, comfortable and sane. Then, Eden would do something like this, using candy-coated allusions to Sephiroth's Reunion to turn off Marlene's grieving cycle like a light switch. There was no way it could be healthy for her; Tifa was waiting for her to break down at any moment, struck anew with the realization of everything Eden had helped her bury.

A graham cracker, overflowing with melted chocolate and marshmallow suddenly hovered two inches in front of her face, summoning her away from her fretful thoughts. "Don't be mad," Eden whispered, offering the gooey, saccharine mass up to her.

Tifa sighed, and accepted the boy's sugary sacrifice, licking at the edges to keep it from dripping. "I'm not mad, Eden. I just have a little too much to think about."

Even as his latent Jenova abilities showed signs of awakening; even as his ties to Sephiroth grew more apparent, Eden still couldn't seem to stand the thought of disappointing her. He still spoke in soft, frightened tones when her face grew too serious. There were still relieving, innocent little moments like this, when he showed himself to be the same terrified child she'd brought home from the Kalm Orphanage. This was another part of him that was too hard to forget or ignore-the part that made her ever-insistent on trying to save him.

* * *

 

"Oohh! …I'll show you!" Yuffie barked, hurtling her shuriken back in Tifa's direction.

The wastes were quite blustery today, forcing the ninja woman to compensate for fickle wind shear. Tifa failed to deflect it this time, instead side-stepping and rolling out of its path as Yuffie landed gracefully behind her to intercept. If Tifa could say nothing else for herself, it was that her capacity to dodge and parry had improved significantly. For once, she got back up with the fusion swords still in hand.

"Talking to me, or the wind?" Tifa lightly provoked Yuffie, holding one blade out in front of her.

"How about both!" she exulted before pouncing backwards.

They clashed in friendly close combat, as Yuffie unleashed a series of small, sharp, rapid-fire cuts, each met with a stubborn, blocking clang from First Tsurugi. Just as she leapt into the air to deliver the move's final blow, Tifa brought the blade down hard on one end of shuriken's points, handily prying the weapon from Yuffie's grasp. Ceremoniously, Tifa thrust the sword outward, inches shy of her neck, ending the spar. If it had been for real, Yuffie would have been decapitated.

Yuffie huffed, laughing nervously at the sword's close proximity. She'd been impressed at how difficult Tifa had made it to best her, but this time she held nothing back, fighting as though she had every intention of completely obliterating her opponent. Slowly, when she was sure that Yuffie wasn't going to make any sudden moves, Tifa lowered the sword, rejoining it with the rest of the weapon, and sheathed it at her back.

"Sorry if I got carried away," Tifa apologized, seeing Yuffie tenderly feel the side of her neck, checking that her carotid artery was still intact.

Yuffie dropped hard onto the dusty ground then, stretching, and moping, "Oh man…I can't believe I actually lost! You seriously looked like you were ready to murder me! Guess I kinda forgot how scary you can get when you mean business! Geez…"

Tifa crouched down, dragging her fingers in the gravel. "I think that maybe…Cloud is helping a little," she confessed. "Usually, I feel so awkward trying to fight like that. So unbalanced, but sometimes everything just fits together." There was definitely something she sensed in this match, beyond the simple urgency to get better and stronger. Her hands and feet seemed to know intuitively what to do before her mind could process it. She felt a lightness in the fight too, an ethereal, invisible sense of comfort and encouragement. It quickly faded when the match was over, but it left a trace of memory; new understanding bestowed as though an expert had patiently trained her.

"Two on one isn't very fair, you know? But that's probably what you need to take me down anyway," Yuffie beamed knowingly, brushing herself off.

As much as the girl loved to sing her own praises, Tifa couldn't fault her. Unlike most of them, she'd never really been content to settle down to the point of letting her skills rust. By comparison, any time a new battle emerged, Yuffie had hardly any catching up to do before she was ready to tear whatever foe was asking for it a new one. Such was the life of one who chose espionage and general intelligence as a living, Tifa mused. Battle was always imminent.

But it seemed that way for everyone else too, anymore. With that in mind, the bittersweet training phenomenon also worried Tifa. She wanted so badly to keep holding onto him, but the fact that Cloud's spirit remained near in those times, not quite returned to the Planet, told her that trouble wasn't far off. Her mind instantly wandered to Eden, quite sure he was the cause. Cloud, of all people, would know she'd never have the heart to put him down as a child, even if it was the safest option. She worried that maybe the Planet had sent him to prepare her for the consequences. Tifa didn't want it to be like that; she'd never been in the military or genetically altered as Cloud had. She was just a lonely barkeeper trying to protect what was left of her family, Eden included. Even with extra help, she could never fight the way Cloud used to.

Tifa's heart sank, cold and deep. "Yuffie…has Eden ever done anything strange around you?" She didn't want to say exactly what she was thinking now; didn't want to have to be the one to suggest that the poor kid was being so directly used by Sephiroth. Worse, she was too ashamed to bring up how her mind had been invaded as evidence. Who the hell would believe her about something like that?

Standing on her tiptoes, Yuffie swatted more dust and gravel away from her back and butt. She then decided to empty her shoes of pebbles that had found their way in during the match. "Like what? He's kind of a weird kid already."

Tifa's head hurt; the conscious path beaten by her invader was throbbing to be known, to be told on. She was scared and so very humiliated by it, though. There were some things about Cloud's personal conflict with Sephiroth that differed from her own; things that she never wished to understand on this level. Wasn't this supposed to be restricted to those with Jenova's cells? The mental war was one aspect she was much more comfortable simply empathizing with, not actually experiencing. But the front door to her psyche had been ripped away by the hinges; it wasn't as though she could simply close it again, lock it down, and reinforce it.

She felt like he could walk right in again at any time he pleased, and she'd be completely defenseless to stop him.  _Him._  Was it him? Tifa didn't want to know. She didn't want to think about it or look at it any closer.

"He…asked me if we could still be friends once he becomes 'whole'." Such a small part of the incident, but Tifa hoped it would be enough to clue Yuffie in. "And then, I guess there was something he told Marlene about Barret…Since then, she hasn't cried. She's been perfectly happy, like nothing's happened." Tifa cringed inside, knowing full well the latter hardly revealed anything. Internally, she was too busy berating herself for not watching closely enough again.

"Hmm…" Yuffie paced lazily, swinging her arms. "Well, we can't forget he  _does_  have the whole larva thing going on. It'll probably be a while before he gets it that he has to grow up like a normal kid. As for Marlene…I don't know, Tifa. She's seen a lot of crappy things for a kid. Maybe she just doesn't know what else to do?"

Tifa calmed marginally. She'd failed to consider that Marlene's behavior didn't necessarily have Eden to blame. Maybe the girl was just so used to sadness and loss that she thought she was supposed to move on in a day or two. It could also be the unfortunate fact that neither one of them would ever actually see Barret dead. A lack of closure might make it easy for her to pretend he wasn't really gone, at least for a short while. It still wasn't good for her, but it wasn't as dangerous as what Tifa was imagining. Eden may have unwittingly provided a crutch for Marlene not to accept it with his bizarre and suspect theories, but not much else.

"I guess…I'll just have to keep reminding him what he has," Tifa concluded, although her tone was nothing but doubtful.

"He's a happy kid," Yuffie agreed. "If he seriously thought he was going to lose you or Marlene, he'd throw a total fit. Screaming, kicking, hyperventilating-everything! Besides, it's all just stuff he says, right? He hasn't tried to run away, or mind-control anyone, or summon really ugly versions of Bahamut, or take a bunch of other kids hostage to use as meat shields, or, or…"

"I think I understand what you're saying," Tifa laughed softly, even though her blood had chilled slightly at the mention of mind control. It wasn't quite like that—more like the telepathic version of breaking and entering. But if she came clean about it, Yuffie would likely inform Reeve and Vincent, who'd in turn probably decide that Eden's time was up.

"Maybe you should just ask him how he's doing?" Yuffie offered.

"Yeah, I will."

* * *

 

She knew that analyzing the Eden's emotional state would probably lead to some disturbing comments on his part, but it was something that needed to be confronted. There was no way she could take proper care of him if she was constantly afraid of who or what might be hiding behind or inside of his unassuming child's shell. In the long run, she'd only wind up avoiding him, holding him at arm's length, and emotionally crippling him. The only way this was going to work was if she refused to back down; refused to be scared away.

Just this once, Tifa chose to let Eden and Marlene stay up late. It had been a long, long while since Marlene had been allowed to help out in the bar, for all the Geostigma-afflicted patrons who came in, oozing and lamenting their impending demise. Trying so hard to shelter the kids from the myriad of evils and scary things in the world was fast creating a prison of the building's second floor for them. So, once she'd closed up and found them disobeying their bedtime yet again, she cut them some slack, and let them come down.

Back in the kitchen, Marlene was happily scrubbing away at an endless pile of dishes. Tifa enjoyed the break from it but knew better than to believe her chore-enjoying phase would last forever. One day in the not-too distant future, the girl might even come to see Tifa as cruel, evil, and unfair for even suggesting she help clean.

Up front, Eden all but hid in the shadows of Tifa's legs, following her step for step as she reorganized the bottles of liquor, and took notes on the ones that were running low. Stepping back, she barely missed his little feet for the fourth or fifth time and groaned. Having had enough of that, Tifa turned around, and he let out a startled cry when she picked him up without warning, sitting him down on a stool.

"It's okay for you to watch, but I might accidentally squash your feet if you don't stay back, alright?" Tifa warned him, squeezing one of his big toes playfully.

Eden crossed his arms in a pretense of pouting but couldn't help the delighted smirk that played across his face. He could get on her last good nerve, but she'd never turn on him. Even when she scolded him, she always made sure he wasn't needlessly frightened by it. He could feel the gentle crack in her patience, quickly restored by care and understanding. The minuscule flow of consciousness came and went quickly as she released his foot and returned to the night's closing duties.

But on the very tail end of that signal, almost completely veiled, there was a hint of intense apprehension; something that bordered on sheer horror. Eden rolled that tiny bubble of her emotion around in his mind, curious, half wondering why, and half trying to bait his inner existence into responding to it. It fed off of things like this, he knew. It made something unspeakably awesome of things it could manipulate and control, given the chance.

Suddenly feeling quite numb, Eden's mind seized, floating on a backdrop of giddy euphoria. He felt his vocal cords react, speaking, although he never thought the words uttered.

"Am I…your nightmare, Tifa?" Calm, dripping, inquisitive, yet mildly accusatory, the words rolled out. His small, boyish timbre dampened their full effect and meaning, however, reducing the statement to something of day-dreamy confusion.

That didn't stop the woman from whipping around, eyes narrowed, disbelieving in what she'd heard. "Eden…" Tifa began cautiously, "What are you talking about, hmm?" A tiny tremor infiltrated her voice, but her question came out every bit as gentle and careful as she'd intended.

Hazy, Eden slowly blinked. He'd seen her turn and her mouth move when she'd addressed him but heard nothing. Flustered by his sudden space-out, Tifa lightly grabbed Eden by his shoulders when he failed to reply and gave him a small shake.

"Ti..fa?" he drawled, still partially hypnotized by a low buzzing in his ears. A jolt of scorching, panicked conscious energy passed from her through him, and the object of her fears reared his head, staring him down. Cyan eyes, fashioned much like his own, but sharper and slightly more slanted pierced him. "What is…?" the boy murmured, reaching forward. The beginning, the end, Mother's will and his final being, so very close. Eden was a willing slave, but soon, so soon… The time was drawing so very close, wasn't it?

"What is what? Eden? Come on, talk to me…" She grabbed the hand he'd randomly outstretched, trying to pull him back into waking reality, finding it cold and clammy.

The link between their minds strengthened and faded in uneven waves, and Eden relaxed, compelled to see Tifa do likewise. It wasn't safe to let her energy out in such irregular bursts; there needed to be a steady, constant stream, easy to navigate, and easy to read.

"Tifa…I was just thinking…" Eden yawned for effect, or at least, he understood that was the purpose. Right now, that inner being, that man held the reins, commanding caution, pushing small, apparently normal physical impulses upon his small body. Eden felt his free hand lift to rub at his eyes.

Remembering her discussion with Yuffie, Tifa decided it was now or never. Something was really bothering Eden.

"Eden, are you okay?" she quietly asked him, still holding his hand, pushing his hair back from his head to check for fever. Like his palms, it was cool. If anything, his temperature was running slightly low.

"Mmhmm…" he meekly replied, eliciting an audible sigh of relief from her. She'd been waiting for something else to happen, but it didn't. Her guard came down; she was ready to listen to whatever he had to say. Eden wondered what she'd been expecting, and he felt, almost heard, his inner existence laughing at her in dark amusement.

Sitting closer by, Tifa broke their contact. She hunched over somewhat, resting her face in the palms of her hands, studying him. "Are you sad, Eden? Or scared?"

Eden mimicked her position, staring back. A small smiled crept onto Tifa's face, but she remained focused on him. "I'm alright…"

His voice came out weak and uncertain in spite of his excusing response. "Are Marlene and I making you sad?" she gently pushed, presuming that he didn't want to worry or displease her. When he was fully aware of himself, Eden could be quite sensitive to others' feelings. Needless to say, Seventh Heaven had been a stressful abode as of late.

The boy's eyes suddenly grew wide; fearful, and he grabbed Tifa's hands from her face, startling her. "Please…I want to stay with you and Marlene! I do!"

Tifa frowned, disconcerted. After all this time, did he still fear that they'd reject him? For all she knew, Marlene might even have something of a puppy love crush on the kid. How did he think he got away with tormenting her so much? Then again, she had to guard him so closely from those in the outside world who'd do much worse than simply reject him. He had to have some sense of her unease around him as well. Sadly, his fears weren't entirely unfounded. For that, Tifa felt immensely guilty. "No one's going anywhere. We're all staying right here, okay?"

It happened too fast for her to react, because she was occupied with consoling a frightened child. Eden's pupils narrowed down to tiny, sharp slits; his eyes were literally glowing. In that tiniest of instants, every single mental defense she still had up simply crumbled. It wasn't just the proverbial front door that was missing now. The windows had been smashed in, and the walls were riddled with cracks and holes. If there had been a roof, it was missing. But she was held paralyzed emotionally and physically this time, yet at attention.

Tifa wanted to be afraid, but the presence that flooded her mind wouldn't permit it. She thought briefly of scolding Eden, of feigning motherly disappointment by telling him how rude it was to initiate uninvited mental contact, but her lips wouldn't move. And this truly felt nothing like the little boy sitting in front of her. Tifa knew damn well that Eden wasn't the one pouring into every crevice and unexplored niche of her conscious and subconscious mind, but all she was able to do was sit there, breathing slow and shallow, transfixed on him. She could hardly will herself to blink, making her eyes burn.

"I do want to stay with you and Marlene, and I will…But…I must find Mother….become whole..." Eden murmured slowly, softly, entranced.

Inside himself, Eden received a fascinating memory from Tifa. Two men fought, Tifa's dead friend, Cloud, and the one at the end of his quest for Mother. Cloud struggled miserably, stabbed repeatedly, but whatever he lacked in strength, he made up for in resolve, although he had to borrow much of it from others. Eden finally understood why Mother so hated him. He was a nuisance to her, getting in the way every time. But this was Tifa's memory. She had been there; she was a witness to the lost battle. There was but one way to correct that; one solution for vengeance.

Completely frozen, Tifa couldn't unlock her gaze from Eden's eyes. She couldn't budge an inch, and she'd lost track of time. Maybe only seconds had passed; perhaps minutes. She could only silently pray that her mental invader was finished with her before Marlene was done with the dishes. Tifa didn't want her caught up in this; paralyzed and mentally and spiritually probed while not fully comprehending why, relegated to throwing idle suspicions around.

Desperate, Tifa reached out to her uninvited guest in her thoughts, ordering it to leave. Eden's grasp on her hand tightened in response, coldly, almost painfully.

"I must…have…Reunion…" Eden stiffly pronounced.

Tifa's pulse increased sickeningly; that was the first time he'd referred to it that way. A silent gasp escaped her throat as she felt his tiny fingernails dig into her palms. Was he asking for her help, or was he actually trying to hurt her?

All coherent thought was then effectively eradicated from her mind when he spoke again, "I know you understand, Tifa."

Again, his voice was confident, dripping, and sinister.

But it was worse than just that. There were two voices.

Two very distinct voices, chiming in on the same retort. Eden's childish, quiet voice produced those words almost robotically, merely repeating what he'd heard. It was the deeper, somewhat melodic, disembodied voice that joined him who truly spoke, coolly gloating in his conquest.

Tifa wanted to scream.

Tifa wanted to take the upper hand, and kick that person out of her little boy, and out of her mind, and out of her life.

Tifa was allowed to do none of those things. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she fell limply to the floor, helpless and vomiting. But at that moment, she knew she'd been released. Gradually, horrified and quaking violently beyond her capability to control it, she crawled back up to the bar, and swiped a washcloth to wipe her mouth off.

Eden didn't pass out this time; he reappeared at her side with a glass of water, still looking very much possessed.

"Don't fight it, Tifa. You were chosen," he calmly advised, and she could only be glad, in her absolute mental exhaustion, that it was only Eden she heard this time. She could deal with what he said later.

Clutching the glass he'd offered, she chose to drench her face, rather than drink it. The water was bitterly cold, but right now, she welcomed anything that could remind and assure her that she still owned herself.

 


	11. Mercy

Tifa felt she was walking outside herself, her stiff fingers unlocking the small drawer. Her hand grasped the handle, gently sliding the compartment open. Only one item lay contained therein, a small pencil case holding a lethal syringe, given to her by Vincent in case Eden proved to be a viable threat. Her heavy, bloodshot eyes stared vacantly at the thing. She'd spent all of the previous day in silent, contemplative distress, followed by a night of even deeper inner turmoil.

"I'm just a little tired," is what she'd told Eden and Marlene. Tifa could hardly bring herself to look at Eden, because she knew they'd reached a tipping point. His Jenova traits were coming into full bloom as he strengthened, both physically and mentally. For that, he'd turned into Sephiroth's mouthpiece, the man's perfect agent among bitter enemies. The boy went so far as to try to convince Tifa she shouldn't resist them, aiding her in the wake if a powerful mental attack. Because of him, she knew Sephiroth had plans for her specifically, but she was too afraid to ask exactly what they were. It didn't matter. She'd do everything she could to thwart them, just as Cloud had before her.

Her forehead, her entire frontal lobe burned from traces of Sephiroth's full invasion into her psyche two nights ago. There was something so very wrong in having to fear a child this way, knowing he was a willing tool for mental rapist. And it was even worse to allow him to continue being used that way, she'd concluded. Tifa's spirit had collapsed when it occurred to her that during his stories, essentially the exact same thing had been happening to Marlene. Whether it was a mere stroke of luck that the malicious spirit was being gentler with her, or if Sephiroth had more complicated plans, Tifa didn't know. Now, there would be no need to guess.

Very carefully, painstakingly, she removed the syringe from the box, softly setting it on the bar's kitchen counter, making no noise at all. If she couldn't hear the steps she was taking toward committing the deed, she could momentarily deny the decision she'd made; pretend that this was something a bit more benign.

Hours of weeping and thinking and whispering out loud to herself, and to Cloud and Aerith, if they could hear her, had settled it. All that could be saved of little Eden was his soul, which while enslaved, was still that of an innocent. But as a living being, as an entity in the physical realm, he was much too dangerous.

This wasn't about fear, Tifa reminded herself, padding upstairs, meticulously avoiding the spots that creaked. She was going to do this because she loved him, because she cared that deeply for Eden, enough to set him free from a cursed existence that would only see him become a catalyst for destruction. The body he inhabited was a profane prison, not fit to house his true being, one that should be free of Sephiroth's influence; of Jenova's mimetic legacy.

But somehow, Tifa still felt so detached, emotionally fighting the reality. She climbed, she lurked, and she ghosted down the endless hallway to Eden's room. It wasn't really her that was doing this, a part of her mind reasoned. It was her conscience acting on her behalf, or perhaps her logical sensibility doing what her heart simply could not, would not do. Her hand touched his door, but it felt unreal. That wasn't her hand; it was just an extension of dark necessity. Coaxing her forward, the door budged slightly, having not been fully closed. Tifa released a shaky breath and continued into the last steps of her executioner's march.

No one knew she was doing this. Tifa couldn't stand the thought of being comforted or reassured that she'd done the right thing in the end. No matter what the cause, even if for the very life of Gaia itself, she never wanted to hear anything positive said of having to put a young one out of his misery like some rabid animal. When he was gone, when it was time to care for his body and bury him, that's when she'd tell Vincent, Reeve, and Yuffie. As far as Marlene was concerned, Eden was going to die in his sleep of unknown health causes.

Kneeling beside his bed, Tifa tenderly took one of Eden's little hands into her own, stroking the back of his palm with her thumb. The child slept peacefully, deeply, clutching his new black chocobo plush. Marlene had been right on with that idea. He'd been completely elated that day, carrying the fluffy toy around everywhere, so unlike how he'd been a couple nights ago.

"I'm sorry…" she murmured but had to bite down hard on her lower lip to keep from sobbing. Tifa couldn't say anymore.

Doing her best to steady her shaky hands, Tifa uncapped the deadly syringe. Her heart was racing as she brought the needle just barely to the crook of his arm, pressing ever so slightly against a plump vein there. All it would take now was a quick jab, and her duty to him would be done. Eden would simply never wake again. He'd neither scream nor cry. He'd not fearfully plea for his life; he'd pass away entirely unaware of what had happened, hopefully to return to the Planet in peace.

Light pressure surrounded Tifa's pointer finger before she properly angled the lethal injection. Her eyes traveled down the length of his arm to where she held him. Unconsciously, he lazily pulled at that finger, a lot like he would with her pants leg or hand when he really wanted her attention. He tugged a few more times, before wriggling loose and grabbing her whole arm, cradling it against his chest along with his plush.

Startled, Tifa dropped the syringe. It rolled back behind her, just out of reach. Before her, Eden made a few incoherent, dissatisfied noises, snuggling tightly with her arm, ending on one quietly whimpered word, "…mine…"

After that, Eden was perfectly still and quiet. His grip loosened, letting Tifa all but stumble backwards. She scooped up the syringe at her feet and fled the room, hurrying back down to the vacant bar, although not as quietly as she'd crept up. Once in the kitchen, she cracked. Huge sobs choked up her throat, and she leaned over the counter, mortified at how fragile of a grip she could keep on her emotions; awestruck at how undecided she truly remained even now. Rationally, she should have steeled her heart, and followed through. Why did the right answer have to be so damn cruel?

She'd thought so hard on what needed to be done. She firmly believed her mind was set, and yet she'd failed. Why and how was risking Gaia's life so very preferable to sacrificing one young soul? Was she okay with that? So many other little ones, like Marlene, might be spared for this one death, but Tifa couldn't bring herself to do it. There was nothing fair or noble about the exchange the Planet seemed to require. If destroying anyone who showed up with the wrong hair and eyes had become the cost of protecting the Planet, then perhaps it was too far gone already, Tifa considered angrily, almost hysterically.

She hated herself for it.

If the Planet was too far gone, then everything and everyone on it was as well. Her emotional side and logical mind were divided, but there was one thing she  _was_ certain of; one thing she could be decisive about right now, in this otherwise muddied instant. That repulsive thing, that injection full of her kid's demise, had no place in her hands or in her house.

Moving frantically, faster than she could think, Tifa emptied the contents down the sink's drain, rolled the syringe up in several thick layers of paper towels, and pitched it into the garbage can. The bin was only half-full, but she decided that was more than enough to justify emptying it this time. Outside, in the back of her bar, she flung the loose sack on top of an almost overflowing dumpster. At daybreak, the trash service would come for it, carrying whatever remained of Eden's potential execution far away, ruining it beneath layers and mounds of filthy, filthy refuse. That was right where such a thing belonged.

So what if Eden was a puppet? He was a helpless little boy, too. So what if he was deeply disturbed or potentially dangerous? That didn't mean he didn't need anyone to care for him; it sure as hell didn't excuse so easily disposing him over the one good scare he'd given her.

Tifa shuddered, dragging her feet. Back inside, she pulled an open carton of orange juice from the bar's refrigerator, drinking from it liberally. The tangy juice was refreshing; icy cold down her parched throat, and it gave her a much-needed momentary distraction, but she still felt she needed a little something extra. Out at the bar itself, she remembered there was a bottle of Vodka that was only two or three shots from being finished and fetched it.

Combining the juice with the alcohol, Tifa shook her head disappointedly at herself. This was turning into a very, very bad habit. Once upon a time, having a drink or two in the face of death or under extreme duress wasn't such a horrible idea. But those kinds of things were turning into daily occurrences anymore. She was going to have to find another means of taking the edge off, before she was forced to look in the mirror and admit to becoming an alcoholic. She'd always taken great, great care not to get carried away in that respect, being the owner of a bar. Recovering from a slip like that might be impossible without giving up her business and livelihood.

But not tonight. She wasn't going to worry about it tonight.

* * *

 

" _Go to her…"_

Eden's eyes popped open, and he scratched languidly at his arm, causing the fuzzy chocobo plush to fall to his side. Tifa had been here not long ago, so scared, about to do something desperate. Gingerly touching the spot where the needle had come in contact with his skin, he weakly smiled, warmed. Not even being a living representation of her worst enemy, quite possibly her worst fear, could drive her away from him.

Eden could feel  _his_  satisfaction also, prickling in the back of his mind. But Tifa was distraught, first for not being able to end his life, and then at the fact that she'd so seriously considered it a possibility.

He had to put her mind to some kind of rest; reassure her that she'd done well for both of them.

"… _console our chosen…"_

Mechanically, Eden rolled out of bed, obeying the voice in his head, and stalked down the hall and stairs. He found her slouched over a tall glass of orange fluid, shoulders trembling with the force of her tears. All of Tifa's hate, her doubt, her sorrow, her deep-seated indecision and despair emanated throughout the room like a heavy, poisonous fog.

Timid, small footsteps guided him to sit on the floor below her bar stool. She made a sound, an odd hybrid of a hiccup and a gasp, as he clung to her left foot, resting his groggy head against her calf. Tifa looked down at him, and immediately bit back on everything. The thick, mournful aura quickly receded as she tried to put on a brave face for him.

For him. She'd do anything to keep him safe, Eden realized, even from herself.

"Tifa…thank you," Eden murmured, embracing her leg tighter. "Even knowing, you protect me every time…"

Tifa's head throbbed, burning. Those words—it was just Eden's voice, and only his honest feelings, she believed, but their tone was way too grown-up. Children didn't typically speak such weighty things. He was ever so delicately broaching the topic of what she knew about him, wrapping it in soft, sincere thanks for sparing him. He'd been asleep for that, but he was aware of it anyway. She was still dealing with more than just the little boy, it seemed.

"Yeah, I guess so," Tifa numbly replied. She felt so stupid, so very trapped. There was no way to be completely positive with him, when he was cajoling her into talking about something this dreaded. But there was nothing reasonable in being hostile or angry either. As inadequate as it felt, a simple agreement was the best she could do. The last thing she needed right now was to tempt his puppet master into interrupting, answering for him.

"Don't worry, Tifa. You will be…he will…repay you…" Eden spaced out in mid-sentence then, as though listening to something from afar. The look on his face was one of blissful contentment, though. The world could crumble underfoot, and he'd have not a worry.

Tifa felt drunk enough to ask.

"Who is 'he', Eden?" She almost wanted to laugh at the question's absurdity. She already knew, but she just had to pry, to make sure she was right. Who knew? Maybe all those mind-warping experiences with this eccentric, lovable  _Sephiroth_  Remnant were simply hallucinatory products of her stressed-out mind. She could only wish.

The boy's head popped up, revealing an embarrassed blush on his cheeks. He really expected her to be too intimidated to ask, didn't he?

"You know….he's Mother's favorite. But I'm not sad about that, because once I'm with her, we're really the same." Eden bashfully fidgeted as he spoke, eagerly regarding Tifa like any normal kid would when in anticipation of praise after revealing something special he did. He might as well have been offering her a newly scribbled crayon sketch for the refrigerator door, the way he said it.

Tifa tossed back the precious remains of her booze in reaction, hoping she might choke down that idea a little smoother with its help. "The same?" She felt oddly indifferent.

"Uh-huh."

Maybe he was lying. Maybe he'd been deceived into believing a lie. Or, Eden was telling the truth, the unadulterated, uncompromised truth. It was enough to make Tifa consider the merits of dumpster diving, but quickly discarded the thought. She'd emptied the syringe for the most part, and whatever was left of it had likely been crushed beneath the other trash. That, and the fact she knew full well she couldn't do it. Even as the kid sat at her feet, making an unfortunately believable logical assertion that he  _was_  Sephiroth, at least in essence, she couldn't do it.

They were both probably better off that he'd caught her half-wasted to share this tidbit of information. Tifa wasn't quite capable of being horrified or repulsed right now. In fact, the whole thing was amusing and curious in a way. Complacency was the worst thing she could bring herself to feel.

Tifa crossed her arms over the bar's counter, pillowing her head with them. "Mmhm. One and the same. Of course," she grumbled emotionlessly. "Maybe. Maybe if you magically grow three feet taller, and if I don't cut your hair…for years…"

The better, safer option was not to believe it. Eden couldn't even lift a normal katana. A large kitchen knife was the closest she'd seen him come to handling a real blade. He'd seemed rather perplexed at what exactly to do with even that at the time. She had to take it from him before he hurt himself. A tickled snort puffed out of Tifa's nose while she tried to resist laughing at that goofy memory. Poor little guy. He might have tight connections to the world's greatest evil, but he still needed help cutting his meat.

A tiny finger prodding at her leg stirred Tifa from her half-sleeping state. Eden stood, and was now casually observing her, unaffected by her gently mocking incredulity. With some effort, the boy climbed up onto her lap, and embraced her.

"Just wait," Eden replied, closing his eyes as she draped a lazy arm around him. "…a little longer."

"Sure, whatever you want," Tifa yawned. As long as he couldn't have his Reunion, she might as well treat it like a silly, albeit very morbid child's fantasy.

How else was she supposed to cope, when the fantasy liked to drag her in for a ride from time to time? But it could never come to fruition, as long as what he sought was so well-guarded, locked down, disguised, and untraceable. That was what made it acceptable to let him keep breathing, Tifa reasoned, excusing her faltered attempt on his life.

* * *

 

Yuffie's head hurt from hanging upside down for too long. She grit her teeth as she pulled herself upright, into a sitting position. If their conversation had been less bizarre, the sight of Tifa and Eden snuggling up all sleepy and tired would have been adorable. Spying on her wasn't Yuffie's idea of a good assignment or mission, but she'd grown too worried not to. In short, the older woman had come across as worn down during their last sparring match. Not so much physically, she noted tersely to herself, still nursing a wounded ego after losing. Tifa was emotionally exhausted. The short, uncertain little hints she dropped made it pretty obvious that Eden's behavior needed checked on.

Throughout the evening, she'd crept along Seventh Heaven's roof, occasionally shimmying down ventilation ducts, watching and listening to her friend and the boy. A reliable first impression of the situation was easy enough to gather: Tifa was quite troubled. She'd murmured and argued with herself until finally, she broke out Vincent's emergency solution. Eden had apparently done something, at some point, serious enough for her to think that was all she could do for him. Yuffie was still trying to guess what that might be. Had he harmed Marlene? Were there other Sephiroth larvae wandering around that she'd not noticed yet?

And then, her imagination began to fill in the holes when Eden started to talk about being with his "Mother" again. As physically harmless as he'd proven to be, Eden had suddenly chosen to reveal his most threatening and frightening hand: He was damn well aware of the nature of his existence, and all too willing to follow it through to the end. Chewing on that fact, Yuffie waited until she was sure Tifa would still be safe with him before leaping from rooftop to rooftop, hurrying back to W.R.O. Headquarters. Too bad for the people she was probably waking up, she briefly thought. This was a crisis.

"First, tell Vincent, and then Reeve, and then, then…." she panted. Then what? What would they be able to do? Crash through Seventh Heaven's front doors with backup, and tell Tifa that Eden's life was no longer in her hands? It might actually come to that, Yuffie uncomfortably realized. As freaky and sinister as the little guy could be, Tifa had quickly come to love him as her own. But even if it broke her motherly heart, it seemed as though Eden had clearly chosen his direction.

"Ha…ha…the same, he said! Eden is Sephiroth…sorta…kinda…funny…" Yuffie huffed, pushing herself to run and jump faster. How tragic would it be if she was wrong, and they killed him? Yet, how positively creepy would it be if that was exactly right? "…And to think, I gave him all those cookies….damn larva kid…."

She flew through the front gates, practically smashing her identification card through the magnetic readers at each set of doors she passed through. Keeping up a frantic pace, she bypassed the elevators, figuring that they'd be way too slow for her. Instead, she chose to race up the stairs to Reeve's office. Arriving at the door, she was going to burst through, but it was locked! That wasn't right. Both he and Vincent were supposed to be in there, waiting for her to report back from her reconnaissance. They knew it might keep them all up late. Had they forgotten?

"Ugh! No, no…come on already!" she growled, viciously shaking the handle, while pounding on the door. "Heeeey! It's Yuffie out here! Open up! Now!"

Frustrated, she took a few steps back, preparing herself to body-check the door open. But when she barreled ahead, it was no longer in her way. "Whoooaa!" Yuffie tried to stop herself gracefully but fell flat on her face from the momentum she'd built. At least she managed to miss a literal head-on collision with Reeve's desk, just barely.

Vincent's eyes followed her as she slid back to sit up on the cold floor. "Owww…" She was very clearly alive and relatively uninjured, he assessed. Silently, he offered her a tissue to clean the fresh scrape on her chin.

"What happened?" Reeve's voice called out from the other side of his desk. He'd been attempting a nap, figuring that Yuffie wasn't going to return until dawn.

Yuffie inhaled. There was much to tell, but so many details not quite in place. "Well…first, Tifa was going to finish off Eden, but then she became too upset. Not surprised about that one. Then, she got drunk. And then, Eden came down, saying some weird stuff about someone repaying her. And—"

"Tifa was going to euthanize Eden?" Reeve cut her off, astounded and half standing. Last time they'd spoken, the woman had been wholeheartedly opposed to the idea, even mentioning that if it did become necessary, she'd have to ask for help. She'd not said a word to anyone, however. "Why?"

"I…don't really know. But! He also said that he and his 'Mother's' favorite are going to be the same once they're all together. Sounds to me like the kid knows things…" Yuffie hopped up from the floor. She'd calmed down somewhat, freshly chilled by her recollection of Eden's voice when he'd said that. It was a very calm tone, but gushing beneath the surface, like it was something he'd been waiting to share for some time. What it turned into was an inappropriately casual confirmation of what they all already knew.

Grimacing slightly, Vincent punched a few buttons on his phone, nodding when he was content with what he saw. "Lab security is still intact. No breaches in the stasis system. I doubt Reunion will happen tonight."

"This doesn't bode well," Reeve sighed resignedly.

Deep down, he wished there might be some way to negotiate with Sephiroth, but the fallen ex-SOLDIER was dead set on his ambitions. If dying multiple times wasn't enough to make him concede anything, trying to have a reasonable discussion was out of the question. They might get what could have been some useful answers, but too little too late, and then they'd all die at his hands.

"We have to ask Tifa for more information, but after that…hm." Not even Vincent wanted to say it anymore. He'd seen enough death in the past few weeks-more than his fill. The thought of having to do for Eden as he'd done for Rufus put a bitter taste in his mouth. That the boy was an apparently healthy 8 or 9-year-old with no wish to die made it all the more grueling. There was no misery to put him out of, only that which he might cause if he was allowed to live.

"Yeah…I know, Vincent," Yuffie somberly agreed. "We've probably waited too long anyway. But at least…at least it'll be over. The Planet will be okay."

Vincent winced. Didn't they all know by now that it was never, ever that easy? Tifa wasn't going to surrender Eden to the W.R.O. without some considerable convincing. A small part of him worried that she might fight them for him. She'd become quite formidable. He'd seen her spar with Yuffie on occasion, combining her martial arts with swordplay to create a unique brand of fighting all her own. Cloud would have been proud of her; maybe even a little envious, if not for the situation. Hopefully, they could rely on Tifa to be reasonable about this.

"We can only hope. North Cave and Mideel Lifestream reads are at 47% infection," Reeve stated torpidly. "Also, the field technicians have found no evidence of unused Weapon forms."

Yuffie let herself collapse into a soft leather chair. "We're really all that's left, aren't we? Kinda scary…"

"Even if Weapon remained, we've already seen what it does when the real target is unreachable. It's not smart," Vincent reminded her. But Reeve's statistics only highlighted the dreadful truth. Even if Gaia lost and died, where would the Lifestream go? Even Omega was gone.

Gaia was very, very sick; in dire need of aid, naturally defenseless in of itself. Would the elimination of one child Remnant really be enough to help cure the Planet, now almost divided in half between positive and negative Lifestream flows?

 


	12. Gift of the Goddess

"Stasis," Tifa repeated bleakly, passing her gaze over Vincent, Reeve, and Yuffie.

"Yes. Tifa, please understand. No one wants to throw Eden's life away, but left as he is, Sephiroth is sure to continue using him. Putting him in cold stasis will stop the clock, metaphorically speaking. It will buy us some time to find another solution," Reeve continued.

Tifa grimaced in Yuffie's direction, although she was fully aware that the girl deserved no amount of her scorn. She'd simply done her job as a W.R.O. agent and responded when she perceived danger. More importantly, she was watching out for her as a friend, and Tifa knew it. That the three of them had even taken the time to cook up this solution was generous. They chose to sleep on the matter in spite of everything they knew, and the fact that they'd all but concluded Eden's death a necessity. To start, they really had been intent on ending him.

Forgiving, Yuffie smiled sadly back at her, anxiously waiting for Tifa's answer. "You're gonna hurt yourself if you keep going like this…Oh, and sorry I spied on you…"

"Don't apologize," Vincent mildly reprimanded her. "No one here has done anything wrong." He meant to provide some kind of firm, confident reassurance, but his voice came out cold and distant as ever.

Yawning, Tifa looked at the clock glowing above the bar's open liquor collection. It was 6 a.m. This was a meeting held in secret, arranged specifically for a time when Eden was most likely to be asleep. Shame colored her face in understanding: Things had gotten so out of hand that they were sneaking around the child as though they were afraid to be caught.

And the sick, sad fact was that they were afraid of exactly that. Everyone now knew about how Eden had caught her off guard, and more or less held the gates of her innermost mind open for Sephiroth to infiltrate. They were all aware that afterwards, he'd simply requested that she submit, as if it was the most sensible option; as if he actually expected her to concede.

Tifa still refused to speak of Eden's claims that Sephiroth had "chosen" her, however. If they could solve this riddle with Eden alone; if it never went beyond having to confine the damnable powers the little guy had inherited, then it wouldn't matter. Why pursue it when she really didn't want to know anyway?

Because that was a lie; one that she wanted with all her might to believe, but the truth was that Tifa was terribly, morbidly curious. Given the chance to trounce them all, what exactly did Sephiroth have in mind for her? The closest encounters she'd ever had with the man, face to face, were ten years ago in Nibelheim, and then five years after that, when he murdered Aerith, and when they'd fought him. It wasn't as though they'd ever really come to know each other in any real and binding sense, aside from hatred. At best, they'd become mutual obstacles to one another; at worst, and most honestly, they were bitter foes.

Even when he was still apparently sane, he'd come off as cold and mechanical; detached from any real sense of humanity. She'd only started to feel some vague sense of concern for him when he confined himself to the ShinRa mansion.

Were all SOLDIERs like that, back then? They really didn't seem to have it together. Why didn't Zack do more than he did? Why didn't he try to get him to talk more than just once or twice, or call in extra help from ShinRa? Looking back, it seemed like everyone was a little too willing to wait for Sephiroth; a little too comfortable sitting on pins and needles while the man ate away at his own sanity. A lot of trouble and sorrow could have been spared everyone, not to mention many lives.

Her Papa. Aerith. Cloud. Barret. But especially Cloud. It might be selfish, but she missed him more than anyone else.

There was no use in thinking about it anymore. That was long ago, and there was too much to deal with right in front of her. No amount of depressive reminiscence would change what she had to face right now. She wasn't going to make the same mistake, though. Waiting for Eden to start acting somewhat like a normal kid again on his own was too dangerous; maybe even impossible.

_Tifa…Tifa…_

"Stasis…seems like a good idea. Probably the best thing we can do, at least for now. I need to look after Marlene better. I'm worried—I don't think Eden would hurt her, but Sephiroth?" she agreed at last, resting her forehead on her folded arms. A hellish tension headache was coming on, right between her eyes. She was probably thinking too much.

_The last name spoken by that ill-fated puppet: Tifa…_

Tifa jolted out of her seat so fast she fell backwards, the crash-landing knocking the air from her lungs. Her heart was racing so fast, it was making her nauseous. Stilling her mind, or trying to, she inhaled slow and deep, concentrating on keeping the contents of her stomach down. The pinch between her eyes suddenly burned like a gaping, open hole, and she clamped a palm over it, forgetting for the moment that it wasn't a physical wound.

_All he ever knew passed on to me before the Planet's corruption consumed him, Tifa…Why cling to what has already failed?_

"Ghh…stop, stop!" Tifa could no longer withstand screaming. An average human mind was not meant for this measure of contact! She curled up into a fetal ball, gripping her head tightly, almost completely oblivious to those around her. There was only pain and that voice, Sephiroth's voice, and more pain. Vaguely, she felt herself being lifted from the floor, and laid flat across the counter.

"Hold her still," she heard Vincent's command echo in her head.

"I'm trying! She's still seizing up pretty bad. Snap out of it, Tifa!" Yuffie replied, and something cold locked onto her ankles.

A sharp pinprick in her right shoulder turned everything into a dim, mellow haze. The fiery hole in her forehead was dulled down to a slight, throbbing ache. In the blurred corner of her eye, she saw Reeve disappear into the kitchen with a used tranquilizer syringe.

"It may be wise to take Tifa and Marlene to the lab for observation as well. There's clearly more going on here than we know," Reeve commented, coming back to look Tifa over.

"…Oooh, I hate this. She's just like Cloud…when Sephiroth…" Yuffie whined, remembering all too clearly how Cloud lost control of himself on occasion, back before Meteor.

Vincent winced. "Yuffie, she's relaxed, not asleep."

"Oh! Whoops. Sorry. What happened, Tifa?"

Tifa tried to lift her head, but it weighed more than the rest of her body for some reason. "Eden did…something. I don't know…Now, I can hear…him…" She closed her eyes, shutting out the glare of the bar's lights, beaming too painfully bright for her glazed eyes. "Cloud…I'm sorry."

She didn't need to be told Cloud had suffered in a similar way, and probably worse because of Jenova. Had she known during that first Geostigma outbreak, she might not have pushed him so hard. She'd at least been a little less insistent that he didn't have it so bad. Granted, that was really all the more reason why he should never have distanced himself from everyone, but there was no room left for her to say she didn't understand why he did it. This was beyond awful.

For the first time since taking up his swords to fight in Cloud's stead, Tifa was beginning to believe she'd bitten off more than she could chew. Falling asleep on the counter was all she could do to keep from breaking down. She faded out of consciousness to the sound of Vincent and Reeve discussing the need to transport the whole family to the W.R.O.'s secret lab, posthaste. Yuffie agreed with Reeve almost instantly, but stood watch over her, making sure she didn't continue to seize or worse.

"We can treat them as Geostigma-related cases. Our medical research unit would oversee them, not the Jenova wing," Reeve suggested.

"Fine. But as soon as Tifa wishes, she and Marlene may leave," Vincent asserted.

"…we aren't the ShinRa, Vincent. You know that. The W.R.O. will not falsely imprison someone for scientific experimentation. This will be medical attention, and nothing else."

* * *

 

A man lurked on the outskirts of Midgar's ruined upper plate, leering down at the dying city of Edge. In the two years since his awakening, he'd lived here quietly, attempting to restore his Deepground brother to health. That attempt had recently ended in failure, and Weiss the Immaculate, the greatest Jenova-free SOLDIER, had returned to the Planet. It was no wonder, considering how Mako-saturated the man was. Perhaps he would serve Gaia better below the surface.

Although a pure hand would have been of great assistance for this last, impending battle, such was not the will of Gaia, of the Goddess. He could accept that much. Around the same time, Geostigma reappeared, people in the bordering city began dying again, and Genesis knew the time he'd come for was near-the last act.

An old friend was growing restless yet again, renewed in his resolve to accomplish his warped dreams of deification. Warped, but they were by no stretch of the imagination impossible. Genesis had the most ironic epiphany then. For the apparently unstoppable monstrosity he'd become, Sephiroth embodied all the dreams and honor that Angeal had once endlessly preached on, albeit in a twisted sense. Indeed, he was the most persistent in pursuing them, ever loyally seeking to fulfill his "Mother's" purpose. Not even death itself was an acceptable excuse for defeat. It was difficult not to admire such tenacity, but for its all-encompassing destructive nature. Perhaps Sephiroth had once played the hero for a good reason after all.

Omega's descent had proven the perfect catalyst for him to regroup, thus rousing Genesis from sleep. Gaia's natural defenses were all used up and returned to the Lifestream.

Raising his hand over the city for self-affirming effect, he recited,

"' _Even if the morrow is barren of promises,_

_Nothing shall forestall my return_

_To become the dew that quenches the land_

_To spare the sands, the seas, the skies…'"_

Genesis' line of sight roamed to meet a small truck racing out of Edge. It sped along, en route to the site of what could too easily become the most catastrophic, yet ironically benevolent error in man's judgment. Even while they froze and contained the remnants of the Calamity, they were all but setting the stage for its Reunion. In that unassuming, plain vehicle, the guest of honor was escorted by the very people such an event would first destroy. All that was really needed was one wrong move, and they'd wind up with a resurrected Sephiroth no one could put down, a true god, through and through, as perverse as it was. Gaia would have no choice but to kneel, not so figuratively speaking. He pitied them.

"'… _I offer thee this silent sacrifice.'"_

Unfurling the long, black wing from his left shoulder, Genesis rose from the plate, and gave slow chase toward the lab. It was no secret to him at all; he'd watched its keepers come and go for the past two years, noble in their intentions, but way, way too overconfident in their ability to control Jenova. Way too self-assured that Sephiroth's child-like manifestation could be harnessed and made into what he was not, and what he never really was.

* * *

 

Tifa came to in a too-intensely lit white room, wearing hospital bedclothes. Sensors were attached to her temples, and other standard vitals monitors held her fast to the bed.

"Mm…what happened?" she asked no one.

She vaguely remembered passing out, and looking around, she surmised that this must be the lab's medical ward. This was where Geostigma patients who worked for the W.R.O. went if they were willing to participate in experimental medicine for the ailment. To her understanding, from what Reeve had once told her, if one traversed a complex maze of security checkpoints down several hallways, one would arrive at the Jenova Stasis Center. Knowing that some of the infected might be drawn by a basic Reunion Instinct to that side, the W.R.O had modified the lab to make it extremely difficult for anyone without proper clearance to cross over.

Was Eden there now? She hoped that they'd at least let her see him one last time, to comfort him before putting him to sleep.

A tall shadow suddenly blocked out the glaring light, a young woman in a lab coat carrying a clipboard. Studiously, she scribbled down various numbers displayed on the machinery they'd hooked Tifa into.

"What did you find?" Tifa murmured.

"Ah! You're awake, Ms. Lockhart! Tuesti and Valentine will be pleased…and relieved." Adjusting her glasses, she flipped through Tifa's file, scanning the most important bits. Tifa tried to see the name on her badge, but it had been flipped to show only a barcode. "Let's see…you don't appear to have Geostigma, which is a plus. However, we've tracked some rather bizarre brain activity in the prefrontal cortex. Looks like the main concern right now is your blood pressure, and possibly the risk of stroke." The woman, supposedly a doctor, paused again, set her clipboard down at the foot of the bed, and pulled up a chair.

"…What else?" Tifa knit her eyebrows, seeing the scientist settling in for a frank discussion.

"This kind of abnormal brain activity  _has_  been documented elsewhere. The good news is that your case is not unique, at least not in the sense of being the first incident. So, we have an idea of what's going on. Your neurological symptoms are consistent with a tactical psychic assault, where a sentient being with telepathic capabilities enters into, communicates with, and manipulates the mind of someone who does not. In order to maintain this contact, the assailant systematically activates several regions of the brain that aren't typically much used in a normal human subject. For victims such as you, there can be one of three outcomes. The worst, as you might imagine, is that you'll suffer extensive brain damage and die. The most hopeful is that the symptoms will recede, and you'll simply return to normal functioning. The third possibility depends on how you look at it. You might experience a successful telepathic awakening. Given the apparently slow development of your activity, I'm tempted to say that is your attacker's goal." the scientist explained, extensively.

Tifa nearly went cross-eyed from the speedy onslaught of semi-technical information. While her willingness to share showed that she probably meant well, the doctor spoke at light speed, and was a bit too excited over the progression of Tifa's condition for her comfort. Then again, processing massive amounts of data was probably everyday fare here. Tifa knew she should just be grateful she'd toned the vocabulary back enough for her to get the gist of what was going on in her head. Yet, the good scientist had left one thing painfully open—

"Where has this happened before? What can I do about it?"

"Telepathic capacity…was primarily seen among higher SOLDIER groups. It was a common non-combative tactic used by the Tsviets, and also observed in the behavior of two notorious First Class members. I think…" She pulled a note card out of her lab coat pocket, glancing at it for a reminder. "…Yes! Tuesti said you know Shelke Rui. She's a good example from the Tsviets group. A specialty in Synaptic Net Dive is how it expresses itself in her, as I recall. She's been helping us out over in the Stasis Center, but we called her over here to get an opinion on your case. Her results were…frightening, quite frankly. Supposedly, your assailant is a dead man, although 'death' is an admittedly shaky concept where Jenova subjects are concerned."

The woman's cell rang just as Tifa cringed. She didn't want to have to hear someone else say it. Absentmindedly, the doctor wandered out of the room, chattering at miles per minute again about something to do with Geostigma making a more profound appearance in wildlife and flora. Tifa was sorely worried for Eden. She had to wonder if that's all they saw him as, just another "subject". She wasn't going to leave him here until she was dead certain he was in the hands of people who understood perfectly that he was a human being, deserving of compassion and dignity. But Shelke was here, and Vincent was extraordinarily cautious over enforcing the W.R.O.'s scientific ethical standards. One scatterbrained doctor shouldn't concern her too much, should it?

After that, she thought of Marlene. She had plenty of good reasons to think this had been happening to her, too. Where were they keeping her?

On cue, the little girl popped her head through the door, and came running, nearly pouncing into Tifa's lap. Yuffie followed behind, not as energetic as she'd normally be, but still laughing.

"Tifa!" She clung tightly to her neck and cried. "What's going on? You're sick, and they took Eden away! What if they hurt him?"

"I'm alright, Marlene…" Seeing her so distraught snapped the last thread of emotional fortitude Tifa had for the moment, and she wept with her.

Everything was so wrong. It all had been since Cloud died. Tifa had never felt so utterly powerless, so lost and directionless. Oh yes, it had been bad before. There had been more than plenty of times where she might have floated away for not being able to tell which way was up. It was this disgraceful feeling of failure that made this one so much worse. No matter how strong and upbeat she tried to remain for the kids, she easily saw that she wasn't helping anyone.

Those with Geostigma would still die. Eden would still have to be frozen because of his nature as a Sephiroth Remnant. And while she didn't want to think or say anything about it right now, Tifa wasn't so sure Marlene was safe with her anymore, not with Sephiroth's uninvited presence taking up space in her psyche.

What would become of her, then? Would she be doomed to migraines and heated internal conversations with the one she so detested until he was allowed to return through Eden? If that was the case, Tifa's next step might as well be to check into an insane asylum, because she'd eventually need a padded cell.

"Tifa," Yuffie started, pacing in small circles to keep her own nervous tension in check. "…We checked on Marlene, to see if she's having the same head problem. It's nowhere near as bad, but…yeah…"

So, that was it. She'd really screwed up on this one. Eden (or was it Sephiroth?) had started with Marlene, a weak and innocent link, and she'd willingly turned a blind eye to so much of the evidence, all in the name of trying to make the boy feel accepted and loved. The signs were so subtle to start out with, though. How was she to know that something of this magnitude had been taking place all along?! Marlene seemed to enjoy Eden's company greatly, his soft-core bullying aside. She'd never complained about nightmares or headaches, or anything that would have made her suspect something wasn't right. In fact, the girl was often more relaxed around him. Tifa had only recently started thinking something was amiss because of her own experiences.

Yet, her first intrusion hadn't been particularly painful, either. It had been a very numb, sleepy experience. The only true horror came from knowing what she was seeing, from her personal familiarity with the memories that Eden drew from her subconscious. For Marlene, there was no known reason to fear or resist the foreign presence. She didn't know any better. She didn't know it was Sephiroth luring her in.

At least her partial ignorance had spared her some misery.

"How's Eden?" Tifa finally forced herself to ask.

"I dunno…he's been really quiet since we got here. Kinda spaced out. Reeve is making sure he doesn't get put under until you can be there. Vincent wants it to happen tomorrow, though. He thinks it'll be harder…that is, your head won't…" Yuffie swallowed her words. She had grown too attached to Eden to start looking at him as just an extension of Sephiroth so easily, even if that's what he really was.

Tifa frowned, feeling bitter and depressed. This was one of those times when the correct answer did nothing but hurt. "He's right. I'll be ready."

Marlene stirred from Tifa's suddenly too-tight embrace. "What's happening to Eden? Tifa, why are they putting him asleep?"

"Eden is…." Tifa struggled to find a way to say it without hurting the girl's feelings or frightening her.

"Tifa?"

"He's sick, Marlene. A nice, deep sleep will keep him from getting worse. They're going to keep him here and try to find a way to make him get better."

* * *

 

Reeve sat with Eden in the holding cell the Stasis Center specialists had assigned him, while they made early preparations to freeze him. This wing of the lab hadn't been designed for human comforts; monsters and Geostigma- infected wild animals were its normal live inhabitants. But keeping Eden in the medical unit with regular patients was too risky. The best Reeve knew to do was keep him company.

Not that Eden said much. For the past few hours since nightfall, the child simply lay on his back, his arms outstretched at his sides, staring down the ceiling light. Reeve's conscience burned for this; keeping Eden in a lab environment probably did little else but to torment him with lurid memories from another life.

The Jenova Project had been called many things, Reeve contemplated. It was known to many as ShinRa's greatest sin, or as a monstrous shortfall in scientific ethics and competence. All in all, it was one of the darker pages in Gaia's human history. He had done his homework on the topic since Geostigma's reemergence, but his conclusions were much heavier than all of that.

The Jenova Project was not a failure in a scientific sense, for the very nature of pure research is essentially trial and error. Many of the hypotheses, work, and testing that went into the project were nothing short of brilliant. However, what it turned into was a massive failure in humanity. Some of the things he'd read made him weep. Many of the journals and reports written by the scientists involved spoke of their own children as though they were nothing but mere lab rats.

Indeed, many of them didn't really see children when they looked at their test subjects: They saw miniature, durable humanoid vessels for the latest experiment. This delusion had allowed them to become inconceivably cruel in practice. In disgust, Reeve recalled that a technician working under the late Professor Hojo had drawn up an entire report titled,  _"Reducing Subject Noise Interference in the Testing Environment"_. Basically, he'd summarized numerous drug cocktails and psychologically abusive methods of keeping the younger ones from screaming and crying under intense physical duress. Rumor had it that Hojo himself followed that text almost religiously when it was published.

The consequences—madmen, Meteor, Weapon, and to some extent, Geostigma-were simply a flavor of karmic justice for all those atrocities. Sickening and terrifying, yet just. Ironically, declining to resist those very consequences would only show how much more humankind actually deserved them, for how little they valued life. Reeve groaned, set down the book he'd been reading, and looked at Eden. What ever happened to the days when he was just responsible for urban development? Even at the helm of the W.R.O., too much of this was way above his pay grade.

"And then, there's you. What are we supposed to do for you?" he mumbled under his breath, unintentionally thinking aloud, and rubbed his eyes.

When he opened them, Eden had come to sit at his feet, staring dejectedly up at him with tear- glazed eyes.

"Mother is  _here_. Let me be with her."

"Shortly, Eden. There are a few things we need to do first." It was no lie. When he was asleep, he'd be kept and monitored in this wing of the lab, right along with all the Jenova bio-matter. Reeve didn't have the heart to go into a long explanation about why he could never have his wish. He was positively clueless what he'd do with a crying child who had some incredibly complex reasons for being upset.

Eden's shoulders slumped as he seemed to perceive something of Reeve's true meaning. "It doesn't matter. Even if I go to sleep, I'll wake up with her," he replied sourly.

"Maybe," Reeve acquiesced. This entire set-up  _was_  quite precarious. It would be foolish to believe that they could hold it together forever. The W.R.O. planned to eject most, if not all of it into outer space eventually. By removing a large portion of Jenova's presence from Gaia, the Planet might gain the advantage it so desperately needed. Reeve could only hope they'd get that far.

* * *

 

Vincent, Tifa, and Marlene walked quietly down the hall, approaching the last check point. It was like a funeral march: No one spoke, and everyone's eyes were either downcast or staring dutifully ahead. Yuffie had already left earlier that morning to help Reeve prepare Eden for the stasis treatment. He'd have to be sedated first, before inserting him into a special capsule. As a precaution, they would store and lock him in a room separate from the main stasis system at first. In theory, that should prevent him from absorbing or being exposed to any other Jenova-type specimen if there was a breach or malfunction in the system. Tifa didn't care for those details, however important they might be. She felt too much like she was abandoning her own child, and at the same time, immeasurably guilty she hadn't done this sooner.

Shelke greeted them on the other side, "Welcome, Vincent Valentine, Tifa Lockhart. Eden's almost ready for the freezing process." She turned to Tifa, an indifferent, professional tone taking over her voice. "You should know that Eden is not really a separate person from—"

"Shelke," Vincent interrupted her. The small woman had grown much more personable in the past two years, but she still had much to learn in terms of civilian, adult social skills. Chances were, she was actually about to try to console Tifa by affirming the correctness of her decision. Yet, being friendlier didn't stop her from saying things that came across as insensitive or outright rude sometimes.

She slowly looked away, too awkward to say anything else to Tifa's face. "My apologies. Eden's room is ahead."

"It's alright," Tifa attempted to reassure her. "He's a Remnant. I know. It's not something he can help."

Looking to one side so she could see Tifa in her peripheral vision, Shelke couldn't help but drop a little bit more of what she'd found while investigating her psychic assault, "It's a lot more complicated than that, Ms. Lockhart." But she remained monotonous, and intentionally vague. "We'll do what we can."

"Thank you…" Tifa replied quizzically, remembering Shelke had been the one instrumental in determining what was going on with her head.

Marlene ran up from behind Vincent and took Tifa's hand as they entered the room. The scene that unfolded before them was somewhat surreal. Two technicians confined themselves to one corner, double checking that the stasis capsule was functioning properly, while Yuffie and Reeve talked quietly with Eden. The child appeared to be glowing in the harsh, clinical light. Between his pale complexion, his platinum hair, and the white surgical gown he'd been changed into, he nearly faded into the sterile backdrop. Only his large, frightened Mako eyes stood out.

Saying nothing, Tifa stepped forward, and took him into her arms. Weakly, his small arms found their way around her back, returning her embrace. Eden's shaky, nervous sigh drifted into her ear, and she squeezed him a little tighter, proud of him for trying to be so brave. She didn't care what anyone said about him: He was  _her_  child.

Marlene burst into tears seeing them. It was really happening. She was about to lose her best friend. Who knew when he would be allowed to wake up? What if he had to sleep forever? That was just like dying, wasn't it?

"It won't be long, Tifa," he whispered. "Tell Marlene not to be sad."

"Okay…" Tifa started slightly, wondering what he meant with what he first said, but when she pulled back, the boy's face was blank; unreadable.

Then, a nerve-wracking, loud alarm sounded.

Everyone jumped out of their skin, perking up from their positions, except for Shelke. She did an immediate about-face and took off down the hall. "Where is she going?" Tifa questioned.

"The security alarm has been tripped. There may be a breach in the upper level," Reeve explained. "I'd prefer to believe it's just malfunctioning…."

The lab's security system had been engineered from old ShinRa anti-Weapon technology. It would take nothing short of an act of divine wrath to make it through every measure alive. Even if someone did manage to bypass the door-sealing portion of the system, the amount of firepower between the surface and the lower levels that housed the lab itself was meant to make something unrecognizable of any aggressive intruders. The very idea that anything-man, beast, monster, or artificial-had successfully breached it was mortifying.

Tifa's stomach sank. She'd seen how tight security was here. "I'm going to check it out. I don't think she should be alone. Did anyone grab my sword?"

"Back at the other end," Vincent informed her. "Reeve, if Shelke believes there's someone…"

"I know. Vincent, you and Yuffie should go with Tifa. I'll stay with Eden and Marlene."

Meanwhile, the boy that had only minutes ago been quiet and docile was now standing on the table he'd been rested upon for sedation. His cat-like pupils had contracted into sharp lines, his eyes casting a sickly, green glow onto his cheeks as he glared up at the ceiling. Below, his hands were balled up into tiny, tight fists. Eden was not happy with whatever was going on out there.

"Eden? Eden, what are you looking at?" Marlene asked, apprehensive of his suddenly narrow-eyed, tight-lipped expression.

He didn't answer. Eden only continued boring imaginary holes into the ceiling with his concentrated gaze.

 


	13. Limit Break

The unknown attacker had flattened the surface level. Only charred rubble remained, burying what was left of the twitching, shorted out, misfiring security system. A few weak monsters pawed, chewed, and picked through the remains, but Shelke knew they couldn't have been responsible for this kind of total destruction. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled and stood on end as she surveyed the damage: The earth and grass surrounding the lab grounds were scorched in an almost perfectly circular pattern.

"Rhapsodos…" she murmured, before turning and retreating below ground. He had to be lingering nearby.

Shelke knew only a little of Genesis aside from Deepground's attempt to induct their genetic foundation into their official numbers. The Worldwide Network held sketchy information at best; he was one of ShinRa's loose ends that had never quite been tied up. He'd been declared killed in action on both a cover-up and factual basis, but the latter ultimately had to be rescinded when Deepground tried to take him in. He'd refused. That much was unsurprising to her; Genesis' defection had come as the result of his resentment toward ShinRa for being made into a major subject of the Jenova Project. That had led to his falling out with another, more notorious subject SOLDIER First, Sephiroth.

Clenching her back teeth as she fast-walked back down the Stasis Center hallways, Shelke discerned that Genesis' intentions here couldn't possibly be benign. Here, in the presence of Jenova's storage and Eden, it was entirely possible he was here to exact his revenge to the utmost. Eden wasn't biologically any different from the previous Remants of two years ago; it was that he was more than a mere puppet in spirit. He was the infused not with just any suitable life, but with Sephiroth's own childhood memories. The relationship between the two was similar to the relationship between one's hand and pinky finger. It was something that deeply concerned her, but the fully-grown, complete SOLDIER playing around above ground was more dangerous at the moment.

"Reeve, I think we need to initiate Scatter Protocol," she said flatly, although her bursting entrance told him how gravely serious she was.

Scatter Protocol was an emergency evacuation procedure in which all but a few key defenders of the Stasis System were to flee the lab in different directions. It was meant to reduce casualties in the face of a powerful pursuer, especially one looking for a particularly sensitive specimen. Sadly, this place was nothing but sensitive, hazardous specimens.

"Scatter Protocol?" he questioned, standing at attention. "What in the world did you find out there?" He wanted to believe Shelke was overreacting, but that had never been in her nature. She was exceedingly precise.

"The top floor was leveled by what appeared to be an Apocalypse attack. The ground was still burning," she explained.

"I see…that must mean that Genesis  _is_  still alive. I was wondering if he'd eventually turn up. Go ahead and start the evacuation. I need to get in touch with Vincent and the others," Reeve replied.

Shelke left without another word. She was one of the staff charged with staying and defending the place. A small, minuscule, naïve corner of her mind hoped she did wind up meeting the infamous ex-SOLDIER, whether in battle or on more agreeable terms. He was supposed to have been dead from degradation, she'd recently found, but somehow, he'd found a way to reverse it. Maybe he could lead her to a cure for her stunted growth. She'd been spliced with his genes just like everyone else in Deepground and was beginning to suspect her indefinite developmental delay was a condition related to his degradation.

* * *

 

" _Scatter Protocol has been enacted…Attention all staff…"_

Somewhere in the lab's complex network of hallways, Tifa had managed to get lost, but as she wandered, Yuffie and Vincent caught up with her quickly enough. Carrying Cloud's First Tsurugi on her back slowed her down considerably. The weapon was meant for someone who intended to stand his ground and fight, not one who needed to make a quick get-away. She was relieved to see them, not knowing what the sudden, urgent announcement meant.

Hanging up his phone, Vincent explained, "The lab is under attack. Reeve is taking the children to his escape route…"

Above, the roof trembled. "Who is it?" Tifa asked, looking nervously overhead. "Or…what?"

"Former SOLDIER First Class, Genesis Rhapsodos, someone who believes it's his purpose to destroy Jenova, or so it appears."

Yuffie wrinkled her nose in disgust. That was a name she hadn't heard since childhood. Before he turned against ShinRa, he'd done nothing less than raise Hell in Wutai, right alongside the Demon. "What  _is_  it with these SOLDIER guys and their head problems? Haven't they ever heard of retirement?!"

Tifa avoided eye contact with the other two, guilty. She didn't need to have it spelled out for her: Eden was probably what had lured this Genesis person out of hiding. Didn't he understand that it could get so much worse with the kind of havoc he was wreaking? Eden was now at a much greater risk of being exposed to Jenova.

But at the same time, Tifa accepted that this was her mess to clean up, at least in part. "I'm going up. I don't want him to get to Eden."

Vincent started off again, leading Tifa to a rubble obstructed exit. It wasn't completely blocked but climbing out normally would present a small challenge. It might have been easier to use one of the escape routes, but he didn't want her to draw attention to the evacuees. "We'll meet with you later, but…Don't treat this as a fight to the death."

"Yeah, yeah. Just because he's a melodramatic ass doesn't mean he's insane," Yuffie scoffed. She'd lost a good playmate or two in that stupid war, during Genesis' last few ShinRa-loyal attacks.

"I won't get carried away, but if he goes after Eden, I'm not backing down," Tifa tersely agreed.

As she took a step forward, Vincent grabbed her arm with his good hand, stopping her. "Tifa, we don't know enough about him yet. Genesis may be a misunderstood ally."

She looked back at him, doubtful and cockeyed. The roof shook again, this time sending a small spray of dust down on them, and the lights flickered.

"Yup! The kind that blows up and caves in your lab. Vincent, are you sure you haven't been reading those old ShinRa science papers too late at night again?" Yuffie questioned.

Tifa decided that she just needed to get moving, and gently pried her arm out of Vincent's grasp. This was getting too complicated, and there wasn't enough time to figure everything out. Eden and Marlene's safe escape was her first priority. After that, everything would have to sort itself out, whether that meant fighting Genesis to a bloody end, or agreeing to hear what everyone had to say. "He'll have to decide how the fight will go."

* * *

 

Once they'd pushed a few large chunks of rubble out of the way, Tifa was able to worm her way through to the surface. It felt more like emerging from a darkened cave than exiting a man-made, high-security facility. There was nothing left on the ground level to indicate it even existed, only the flattened, smoldering leftovers of wood, stone, and twisted metal that comprised the inconspicuous top level. And it was unexpectedly quiet.

Tifa shielded her eyes as a breeze picked up, blowing a fine mist of dark soot into her face.

"' _Dreams of the morrow hath the shattered soul,'"_  a voice spoke from the center of the ruins.

A man sat on top of a pile of burnt rubble, regarding the deep purple-colored, rare Banora White apple in his hand with excessive concentration. Tifa drew Cloud's sword, backing away from the mound a few steps, reluctant to approach the eccentric arsonist.

"Who are you?" she demanded, although she already knew. Her voice came out more curious than perturbed. Something about him seemed familiar, as though she may have passed by him at some important juncture in her life years ago, but she brushed the thought aside. This man, his past, and his agenda meant nothing to her, except for his intentions for Eden, if he had any.

"A hero; a prisoner? One and the same in the end, I suppose," Genesis answered wryly. "Perhaps we should be more interested in who  _you_  are, no?" Rising from his spot, he casually brushed the charcoal marks from his red leather coat and trotted down from the pile in two bounds.

The long, red, rune-coated rapier he held in his right hand didn't escape Tifa' s attention. He was no doubt the one who'd demolished the surface. But he didn't seemed poised to attack; not yet, anyway. In response to his casual carriage, she lowered First Tsurugi, but instinctively gripped the handle tighter. He looked dangerous enough.

"I'm no one special," Tifa replied, feeling rather awkward and out of the loop. Everyone else seemed to have a small clue or two about him, but here she was, taking it upon herself to deal with him. "I don't know you. Why are you here? Why did you do  _this?_ "

"It seems you know nothing. Allow me to assist. Tifa Lockhart, you are the unwitting guardian of a perfect monster. A monster who hides behind a veil of false youthful innocence. I have come to free Gaia of her monsters, and the Goddess will know freedom!  _'Wings of light and dark spread afar, She guides us to bliss, Her gift everlasting,'_ " Genesis raised one hand as he spoke, an almost mirthful look on his face.

Tifa swallowed hard and narrowed her eyes as he ranted. This man was patented lunatic, and he was pissing her off. What kind of person more or less carried out a single-handed terrorist attack on a sensitive locale like the lab, and then hardly bothered giving an explanation for it but to quote famous poetry and speak in frilly, vague terms? "Monsters? What are you talking about? Jenova?"

"Jenova is a mere memory, but every monster has a legacy. Within your precious Garden of Eden grows a corrupted Tree of Life, he who would take upon himself the very wings of the Goddess." Genesis seemed to grow embittered; infuriated as he spoke, and then paused before continuing, "This world…it will find its salvation, but it has fallen to you to decide whether it is through an all-consuming destruction, or the  _'gift everlasting_ '."

Tifa gasped the moment Genesis spoke Eden's name. She still didn't really understand what he was trying to say. He might be claiming to fight for the Planet, she gathered, but how could the hurt or slaughter of a child ever rightfully be a part of that? "I won't let you near him," she warned.

Genesis paced in longer strides, a disappointed smirk forming on his face. "You and I should have been allies, but I am not surprised. You are, after all, Sephiroth's chosen, the heart of the mother he so desired.  _'Pride is lost…'"_

Tifa raised her sword again, as Genesis ran his red-gloved hand along the length of his rapier, igniting the runes in an efflorescent glow. "But Eden is going into stasis. Shouldn't we talk about this?" she tried to sway him, albeit at the last minute.

"Two thousand years ago, the Ancients likewise confined Jenova. Whatever hopeful ideas you have about whom or what Eden is or could be, forget them. He's a monster.  _'Wings stripped away…'_ "

"No! He's not…he's become like a son to me…" Tifa trailed off, quickly seeing that Genesis' mind was made up.

A huge, black wing burst from his left shoulder, and Tifa wanted nothing more than to run once she saw it. "Indeed. '… _the end is nigh!'"_

Whatever Genesis was, it was something in the same vein as Sephiroth. He was a ranting, raving megalomaniac sporting one wing. Worse, if he was once in SOLDIER as Vincent had said, he was probably way out of her league. But if she didn't stand and fight, he'd go straight for Eden.

Questions about Genesis' true intentions for the Planet would have to be looked into later. In that instant, Tifa was too preoccupied by said megalomaniac's dive in her direction. She had to resist the instinct to duck or cringe, instead swinging First Tsurugi out to meet his rapier in a painful clash. The ground beneath her feet caved inward slightly from the force of his initial attack.

Her wrists ached, painfully protesting the harsh reverberation of their crossed swords, and her wobbly knees were all but begging to buckle beneath her. Tifa was a good fighter; some had even called her talented and exceptional. Yet, no amount of talent and fighting sense ever seemed to win out in an unfair fight against the genetically modified. For that, strength in numbers or the added help of heavy weaponry always came in handy. Gaia, five years ago, they'd all barely crawled their way back to the Highwind after fighting Sephiroth in that damned crater!

This man's power was far too reminiscent of his; even the smallest maneuver was a mighty blow intended to crush and kill. Tifa hopped back, trying to put distance between herself and Genesis. She had no hopes of victory at this point. She merely wanted to delay him long enough that Eden and the others could get away.

But he landed right in front of her again, this time making softer, faster cuts at her upper torso. Tifa thought he might be testing her, possibly toying with her to see how fast she could react to him. Maybe she'd even caught him off guard by withstanding his first strike? Biting the inside of her lip, Tifa fended him off as much as she could, parrying most of his swift blows. It was hard to ignore the little cuts on her arms and sides that had formed from the ones she couldn't quite stave off, though. They stung and bled out slowly, reminding her of how this battle was probably going to end.

Behind her, and out in the distance ahead, Tifa finally noticed small dust trails starting to rise in the air, speeding further away. The evacuees had reached the ends of their escape routes and were moving out. Each group would take different, convoluted paths, and rendezvous in Kalm at the end of the day. She only had to keep Genesis busy until those trails disappeared-only a few more minutes.

"' _My soul…'"_ Genesis began to pronounce, lifting off from the scorched ground.

Fearful of what the man's next attack might bring, Tifa began to make a run for her own escape, but quickly found that Genesis' spell had imprisoned her in a rune-covered perimeter.

"'… _corrupted by vengeance,_

_Hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey_

_In my own salvation…'"_

Tifa crouched down, assuming the most defensive, frightened stance she could manage. The illusion of an unnatural, bruised, dark, and stormy sky played out over the space of the runic emblem in which he'd entrapped her. With a raised hand, he called down rapid-firing bolts of lightning from those clouds, illuminating the emblem until she could feel it burning.

"Ahhh…!" Tifa recoiled at the foreign sound of her voice, overflowing with immeasurable pain.

"'… _And your eternal slumber.'"_  Genesis finished his death sentence, pouring out the full wrath of his Apocalypse on the human figure below.

He took no joy in it; did not try to prolong it as he'd done in the past to true foes. In a way, Genesis pitied Tifa. This woman truly could have been an invaluable ally to him. But she was like a rabid animal-something good and natural that had been tainted with a virus and needed to be put down for her own good. As Sephiroth had manipulated her maternal compassion, he'd bent it to his will, using it to move and twist her as he pleased. The only solution left now was to end her, quickly.

She lay flat on her face, every nerve fried but firing, twitching and agonizing. Phantom burns cried out from unmarred patches of skin, while smoke still rose from the actual wounds. Under her throbbing limbs and trembling body, the earth had cracked slightly open from the force of the attack.

Yet, Tifa's heart was racing. She had no strength left in her; she was so beaten and broken that it hurt to move in the slightest. But the aquamarine shimmer of spirit energy that surrounded her signaled that her resolve hadn't died. Intermingling with it, a dark haze misted up from the newly formed fissures in the ground. She felt like someone was pulling her, quite forcefully, to her feet. Everywhere she'd been burned felt suddenly icy cold, caressed and healed by the rising darkness.

Before she could consider why her hands were reaching for her sword without her will or permission, she was jolted outside of herself.

The battlefield and her miraculously recovering body stood yards in front of her, prepared to resume without her. Then, a strong, gentle hand touched her shoulder, startling her.

"Tifa, don't watch it," Cloud's voice spoke.

She turned on one heel when she heard him, looking around desperately, but saw no one. The atmosphere had taken on a foggy, ethereal feeling, and something about the light was off. "Cloud…?" she called, hoping above hope she wasn't merely hallucinating again.

"He'll try to wear you down, until you think it's what you're supposed to do. I know…it's tempting to give in," his voice came again, right behind her, but there was no physical presence.

"You mean…Sephiroth, don't you?" Tifa asked, unsure of what was happening to her.

"Yeah. Tifa, I'm sorry I left you with this."

"No, you didn't do anything wrong, Cloud."

Unbearable silence answered her this time. Tifa shivered, feeling as though someone had just dipped her incorporeal form in ice water. Longer, leaner fingers ghosted along the back of her neck, and down through the length of her hair, intimate and uninvited. It wasn't Cloud.

Cloud had been torn away without warning, replaced by this imposing, fixated, chilly specter. Tifa held her breath, hugging herself. "Do not fear, Tifa. I am with you now," Sephiroth's breath wafted into her ear, cool and nonthreatening, bordering on caring and benevolent, but still carrying the malicious essence of its owner.

She refused to answer; only a cold tear trailing down her cheek replied. The battle continued only feet away from her now. Her body fought, soaring through the air after Genesis, attacking him with a power and technique neither her own nor Cloud's. Tifa was transfixed; she couldn't bring herself to heed Cloud's warning not to watch it. She needed to see this. She  _needed_  to.

Genesis, the man who'd only moments ago been prepared to take her down in two or three moves, was back-tracking and dodging wildly as her physical body pursued. He couldn't keep up when he was forced to land, back-flipping only to find her on him again, bearing down with another vicious slash. A full-powered shove sent her body skidding back on its feet, and he prepared to reclaim the offensive.

Tifa hardly blinked, and her body had countered his attempt to overcome her. She was throttling him with several precision cuts, eight in all. Genesis stumbled, bleeding and struggling to regain his bearings, while she vaulted up into the air again, holding First Tsurugi in front of her, pointing it downward at his back. Her body lingered there in suspended animation, until Genesis stopped in his tracks, panting for air, grunting for the multiple stab wounds leaking all over his body. Then, gracefully, she descended upon him, sinking the blade in through his coat, biting down through his flesh, and exiting through his chest, dripping in gore.

There was no emotion on her physical self's face; it was just an empty shell taking orders from the one who'd possessed it. The body stared forward blankly as it retracted Cloud's sword from its victim's corpse, and both collapsed on the blood-stained ground.

Tifa squirmed and cried out, sensing that she was being drawn back into her body. She didn't want to feel like this again, like the killer she'd been when she'd played the part of an eco-terrorist with AVALANCHE. She didn't want to rejoin with the physical part of her that had been manipulated into taking yet another human life.

"Cloud? Cloud?!" she called out for him, searching the hazy realm frantically, but it was coated in a thick, dark mist, and there was no one. No one could save her from this.

She'd have done anything for someone to tell her that this wasn't her fault, but she couldn't shake the dreadful, pointed feeling that she'd just made a horrific mistake. Genesis was aggressive, but she could have kept him talking a little longer, if only she hadn't come up with such a defensive, fighting mindset. If only she'd been just a bit more patient, a little more willing to hear out his cryptic words, and had questioned him politely, maybe it wouldn't have ended like this.

Sephiroth obviously wanted him out of the picture; his spirit had intervened extensively in that battle, using her mediocre, human body as his medium. That alone probably meant that Genesis was someone they'd regret not having around, dead as he was now. Why, oh why, hadn't she listened to what he'd said about being allies? About protecting Gaia? Why hadn't that given her even the slightest pause; the tiniest clue that he wasn't a real enemy?

Tifa blinked, finding her back nestled snugly against the grainy, ashen ground, staring up at a partly cloudy, pink sky. That shouldn't be right, should it? It had been mid-morning when she'd climbed out of the lab. The sun had been nearly overhead then, but it was beginning to set now, receding into the western horizon as she craned her aching neck to see it.

She'd only witnessed brief fragments of the real fight, apparently. While she'd been ousted from her body, a whole day had transpired and passed, doing battle in the hands of another.

Accepting that, the next thing Tifa noticed was the slimy, damp feeling above the gloved portion of her wrists. When she'd cut into Genesis, the impact of the huge blade had coated her arms and chest in blood, splattering some of it on her face as well. First Tsurugi was still loosely set in her left hand, dripping crimson fluid. Tifa heaved in a shaky, sickened breath.

She was excruciatingly sore, but she couldn't feel any of the cuts or burns she'd received from Genesis. Tifa didn't want to move from where she lay, as gory and unsanitary as it was. The list of potential sins she'd just committed were stacking higher and higher in her mind's eye.

She'd failed to listen to Cloud the one time he'd finally been able to reach her. If she had listened, he probably would have provided her with a much-need mental and emotional reprieve, she knew. Everything could have been so much clearer. She'd allowed her body and Cloud's weapons to be used by their mutual nemesis, dishonoring herself and desecrating the swords. She'd fought and brutally killed the man who might have been Gaia's last major defense.

Where did all of that leave her? What was she supposed to do now? Could she possibly hope to fix any of those wrongs? No one was there to see her; no children were present to be worried or scared, so Tifa cried. She let herself go, wailing and screaming, rubbing dirt on her arms and face to scrape the blood away, but digging into her skin and drawing more of her own to add to the mess. If someone had witnessed her from afar, they might have mistaken her for a wild beast, tearing into its prey.

The world was rotting from the inside out. She was still charged with caring for Sephiroth's child Remnant, a morbid task that even now, she didn't feel right forsaking. There were no able fighters strong enough left to counter him if he returned. So, why did Sephiroth seem so damn adamant about breaking her mind and spirit? What would it prove? As he took the world as his own, who would even be left to be awed or terrified by it? Tifa wondered why he didn't simply do whatever it was he had planned. Nothing could stop him now. Nothing.

What did he want from her?

 


	14. Initiation

The glass was warm, he'd been holding onto it for so long. In the confusion of Genesis' attack on the Stasis Center, Mother had seen fit to bestow upon Eden a wonderful gift. The precious item had rolled into what was to be his prison chamber, while Reeve conversed with the short one everyone called Shelke. Shaken loose from wherever all those people had been keeping it, Eden knew it was for him the moment he saw it.

Reeve was so distracted, he didn't notice he'd picked it up. Shelke was already too afraid of something else to pay attention. Not even Tifa, Yuffie, or Marlene had figured out it he had it yet. No one noticed, and he'd made it home, safe and sound with it.

"J-1" He whispered in awe, watching the thick, greenish-black oil roil and bubble in the vial. Mother had sent him a small part of herself at the most opportune time, a promise that they'd soon be one.

But that beautiful little bit wasn't enough to give him his Reunion. This was meant for another very special cause. With this, he could keep Marlene, and maybe even Tifa. Carefully, he stuffed it back into one of his jacket pockets, along with a few tissues to keep from accidentally breaking it.

Eden was worried sick about Tifa. He didn't understand everything that had happened in the last couple of days. He only knew that he'd come closer to Mother than ever before, and that something bad had happened to Tifa when she fought off that scary man who was trying to destroy Mother. When they all returned to the bar, she wasn't hurt really bad. She was just dirty, scratched up, and she couldn't seem to stop crying.

After that, she'd taken a shower, and confined herself to her room. He and Marlene had only caught rare, sorrowful glimpses of her since then. Only Vincent and Yuffie were allowed to go in to see her. Not even Marlene was allowed. As for Reeve, he hadn't come by in a while; he had his hands full with repairing the lab, Eden had overheard Vincent say.

On the second night, he couldn't stand to be obedient any longer. He'd crawled out of bed when it was late and went to sit at Tifa's door. When he pressed his ear against the smooth, thin wood, he could make out her soft sniffles. She was still crying. And he cried too, because he knew it was at least partly his fault.

If only Tifa could see; if only she could understand how much she'd done for him. The course of time and events might have turned them against one another as enemies, but she changed all of that. She'd turned into his loyal protector and comforter, she pitied him so. She  _loved_  him. Even while she gradually came to the realization that she was supposed to hate, revile, and defy him, she refused. If she kept choosing him, she would betray the very Planet she'd once sworn to protect. She had to know, didn't she? He'd repaid her kindness only with honesty.

Eden wanted Tifa to be happy with that decision.

He wanted her to be content enough with it that once he joined with Mother, and became whole,  _became him_ , she'd still stay with him. The new-found loyalty between them should overwhelm whatever was in the past. He wept all the more, because he knew she wouldn't be.

Why couldn't he keep anyone? Eden startled himself; wracked his brain for who else he'd lost but came up empty-handed. It was just a feeling, and every kid's nightmare. He couldn't shake the sense that once upon a time, everyone had abandoned him. When was that? These were more than just sad thoughts. These were memories. Eden knew he understood what it felt like to lose the only friends he'd ever had. He remembered feeling angry, depressed, and so very lost…and then, there was only Mother. Somehow, Mother had made everything okay. But when had this happened?

"But these ones will stay. They belong to us," Eden murmured.

Nervous, he pulled the vial back out of his pocket. If he absorbed that tiny bit into his body, he could become something much stronger than the boy he was, but it wouldn't be quite right. He wasn't ready yet. It would simply let everyone see just how close he was to Reunion, and they'd do everything they could to stop him.

* * *

 

Tifa had picked up the odd, obsessive habit of counting the shadows of cars that passed by over the past few nights. Each time one drove by and darkened her room more than the closed blinds already did, she wondered how long it might be until the last one rushed by. Which one would carry that last, desperate, straggling group of ill-fated survivors, running away from doomsday in a world where there was no escape? Cold and emotionally numb for the moment, she drifted through morose daydreams that eventually, it wouldn't be Vincent coming in to coax her into eating something, or Yuffie to drag her out of her tear-soaked bed to bathe.

One of these times, it could be Sephiroth, risen from Eden, come to take her life.

"Just do it. I can't fight you anymore. No one can. So, come on," Tifa rasped, slamming a fist sideways into the pillow next to her.

Rage: that was something new, compared to how she'd been wasting her time. Her little fit had the most peculiar aftermath. She slept, ever so light, but instantly. The depths of Gaia were spread out before her, twists of aquamarine spirit energy choked and struggling with tendrils of black and crimson. At the opposite end of life's chasm, Sephiroth stood, tall and proud. His one wing was stretched to its full span, and in the backdrop, a halo of white light rotated around his waiting figure.

He looked every bit the god he wanted to become, Tifa thought morbidly. A massive amount of energy divided them, and he'd turned most of it to his will. Though he was all the way on the other side, she could see him smirk at her arrival, neither vicious nor sadistic as usual, but contemplative. He knew he'd all but won the war and was now calculating how to deal with remaining resistance factors such as her, she imagined.

"Choose well," was all he said to her at first, motioning to the embattled life forces beneath them. His were slowly but surely weaving together a decisive victory, ebbing closer to Gaia's total corrosion.

The Planet screamed, but the sound was drowned out in the darker mass.

"No…I'm not choosing anything," she replied plainly. Gaia was too close to dying to be saved, and the only other choice was to side with him.

And then, he was standing beside her, facing away. The tip of his wing had smacked her shoulder as he'd landed, and she was certain he'd done it on purpose. "Don't be sad, Tifa. This choice is your reward."

"I can't…" Tifa whispered, withdrawing into herself.

"And yet, you already have. Were I to return you, you would continue to guard Eden, no matter what you know of him," Sephiroth alleged, glancing back at her in amusement.

She noted he was unarmed and rather relaxed and thought briefly about the possibility of trying to take him out here and now. But this was dream. She'd probably only serve to wake herself up with a massive headache and his laughter ringing in her mind.

Instead, Tifa crouched down. It was the only way to put more distance between them. Curiously, she didn't feel the pure hatred or terror she was used to, only an instinctive sense of repulsion for all he'd taken from her. She was too tired, she supposed, yet also unwilling to forfeit by siding with the man who was supposed to be her enemy. The only way she'd give up was how she was doing it right now, by doing nothing and simply waiting for the end to come.

"You're right…I would keep him safe for as long as I could," she bitterly assented.

"Even while you know he is a part of me, sent to perform my Reunion," Sephiroth confirmed. "The child will soon die if he is not permitted to complete his task, Tifa."

Her eyes snapped open, and Tifa whimpered. It actually wasn't the first time he'd come to her like that, but the conversation rarely changed. The warning at the end was always the same. Eden would ultimately perish if she didn't give him a sufficient amount of Jenova's cells, and Sephiroth would reabsorb him either way.

It was blackmail, and it was ingenious. Doom the child or be the one to damn the world. Tifa would have been doing the right thing if she'd stuck him with that needle nights ago after all. Sure, she'd hate herself for it forever, but the rest of Gaia could have at least gone on living.

Therein was the problem. Tifa readily admitted to herself that she wasn't the type to indulge in a martyr's complex. She was a normal, selfish human being who valued her life and peace of mind above most others' when the layers of kind words and deeds were stripped away, and life itself demanded massive sacrifices. She refused to make them. When left with the choice between two evils, it suddenly appeared that neither was fit to be called the lesser, and she'd stalled again and again to avoid it.

Tifa scratched the palms of her hands restlessly. That paranoid feeling had returned. She could always feel moisture coating her hands, and she swore she could smell blood. It didn't matter how many times she washed and rinsed them. They were soiled in Genesis' blood and were already guilty of taking either Eden or Gaia's lives. Once she'd experienced it, she couldn't shake what it felt like. Her hands were always wet, sticky, and filthy, but somehow, there was nothing there.

In an attempt to ignore it, she shoved her hands under her pillow, and laid back on them.

Her door opened a crack once she was settled, and Vincent stepped in, quietly closing it behind him.

"Will you come out today?" he solemnly inquired.

Tifa turned her head toward the window. Seeing him or Yuffie was always a harsh reminder that she was neglecting her duties as the kids' guardian. But the best she could give them right now was their right not to see her like this. Eden was unpredictable, but she knew what Marlene would do. She'd try to play the part of a grown-up and take it upon herself to make everything all better, even though she was completely powerless.

Marlene didn't need that. Everything was so horrifically wrong. It would probably never get better again.

"Please don't ask me…" Tifa whispered, ashamed.

Why couldn't time stand still, and give her a chance to think things through? What if there was only one tiny thing she was missing; one that could set at least some things right?

"Tifa, punishing yourself won't change anything." He'd done exactly the same thing for decades. Self-confinement. Sleep. Nightmares.

Involuntarily, she hiccupped, "I know…I've just done too much. I should have seen…"

"Should have seen that Sephiroth is using his humanity as a pawn?" Vincent pressed. Indeed, it was obvious that Eden was a Remnant, but no one could have guessed how much damage he would do, even if only indirectly.

"I…I told you that I know this concerns more than me, but I've been acting like it doesn't. I only wanted to hope at first. With Cloud gone, I needed something…but, I knew what Eden was. I kind of knew, anyway," Tifa softly replied, carefully working her way around stifling sobs. "But I started keeping secrets, Vincent. It was only because I knew how you and Reeve would react…When did I go from trying to give Eden a loving home to guarding him from friends?"

"It didn't matter who you were protecting him from," Vincent pointed out. "A good mother protects her children, sometimes at unimaginable costs."

In spite of the dire consequences faced by both, Tifa had put Lucrecia to shame. He couldn't help but mentally compare the two women. If anyone could right what his former lover had done wrong, Tifa was ideal. The lesson for everyone was ever the same: Some past errors in judgment were far too deep and grave to be fixed. Trying to give Eden the childhood that Sephiroth should have had wouldn't erase the one he did have, neither would it change the maleficent, beyond-human being he'd become. Vincent had suspected as much all along, but he couldn't fault Tifa; he was also guilty of wanting to hope for something impossible, as rational and skeptical as he'd tried to appear.

"No, I guess it didn't….Vincent, have I switched sides for Eden? What about Marlene…?"

"That's still up to you. The only person left to protect him from is himself—or, Sephiroth, if you can't see them as the same…"

Tifa held her breath to stave off another weepy onslaught. She was afraid he'd say that; afraid that he'd suggest the only way to do anyone any good now was to return to that first, awful plan. Without Eden, Sephiroth couldn't make another body. Putting the boy down might still buy Gaia a little time.

"Let me think, just a little longer," she mumbled, stalling yet again in hopes that it would send him away. If they really needed to do that, they'd have to go through with it without her.

It seemed like such a simple solution, to lay there and use sleep as a hiding place until it all took care of itself, for better or worse. Tifa knew she was wrong, though. She sat up and smeared the new round of tears that was leaking out across the sides of her face.

She just needed to pull herself together, because the easy way out would only put Marlene in harm's way, too. Barret's memory was one she had yet to dishonor; one she still felt worth defending.

* * *

 

Marlene was used to seeing the world around her in poor shape. She'd long ago learned that bad news was a normal part of life, but that it was best to be strong, so that the hard times didn't get everyone she loved too down. If it meant that her daddy or Tifa or Cloud might be okay, she could handle whatever they needed her to.

She'd stood on the sidelines of so many battles and seen so many people lost in them. Marlene had barely escaped Sector Seven when ShinRa had dropped the plate on it. She'd watched Meteor fall and all but decimate Midgar. When they told her Aerith was gone, she'd cried as little as she could, because she could tell that everyone else was already upset enough. She'd watched over Denzel when he was sick with Geostigma and tried to reassure him he wasn't going to die, even though she was scared he'd go at any minute.

People with Geostigma all thought that, just before they caught it, and no matter where or when they got it. They were always afraid they were going to die.

The sickness had almost claimed Cloud, and not so long ago, he'd died in spite of being cured. Then, there was the ShinRa president. And then…her daddy, but Eden comforted her a little with his weird ideas. She wanted to believe in them, but it felt funny. Plus, she knew she'd be okay so long as Tifa was around. Tifa was trying so hard, so Marlene did her best, too. She'd only cried for one night over her Dad…but there was more to it than that. Eden did something that made it feel almost like nothing bad had happened. He had some kind of powers or something, but he was mostly nice to her, so she didn't mind.

But now, Tifa wasn't doing so good. Was Tifa about to return to the Lifestream, too? Did Gaia need her more than she did? Marlene wanted to see Tifa so much, but Yuffie kept sending her away, saying that she needed some more time alone. How long was Tifa going to stay locked up like that?

Marlene was really scared. If Tifa passed away, then she and Eden would be all alone. Yuffie was really just a big kid, and neither Vincent nor Reeve knew what to do with kids. Vincent was too serious, and Reeve was too busy with work. Marlene grabbed a plushy, and tried to sleep, but an unpleasant idea was creeping in on her. Lots of kids, big and small, were dying because their moms and dads, aunts and uncles, and even grown-up friends were all gone. Accidents, Geostigma, and even suicides were making the young death toll rise and rise.

Marlene knew she was grown up for her age, but if Tifa couldn't hold on…

She pulled the covers up over her head as the thought came crashing down on her like a tidal wave.

Was she going to die soon, too?!

The air in her room grew suddenly darker and heavier, as though someone had barged in with ill intent. Marlene dared to peek over the edge of her blanket and saw nothing. Her surroundings looked a little murkier than a minute ago, but lots of things could cause that, like storm clouds and power outages. Besides, she wasn't afraid of the dark. As she scanned her room, she felt oddly crowded. A shadow quickly moved in the dim streetlight coming in through the window, and passed over her arm, leaving her skin cold in its wake.

Were her eyes just playing tricks? That happened sometimes when she was worried and thinking too much. Her imagination wasn't always kind under pressure.

Inch by inch, Marlene pushed back her blankets, and sat. The house was silent, save for the gentle, soothing sounds of Vincent and Yuffie's chatter downstairs. She sucked in a breath of air, and hopped down from her bed, padding over to her lamp.

Absolutely nothing was different from the last time she'd turned it off, the light revealed. And she was alone. Marlene guessed she was just getting ready to have a bad dream.

Reaching for the lamp switch again with her other hand, Marlene stopped dead at what she saw. The entire length of her left arm looked as though it had been smeared in a heavy coating of ash. Hesitantly, she poked at it, and it responded with a mild itch. It wasn't a bruise or dirt; she couldn't scratch or brush it away.

Marlene had heard so many things about Geostigma. It came from sick parts of the Lifestream. It struck the depressed and fearful the most, especially those thinking they were at death's door. It was the mark of a vengeful, angry Planet.

It was the stigma of a man who delighted himself in torturing humanity, Cloud once explained. If a person's mind and heart were weak enough, it used that weakness as its way in. Geostigma was Sephiroth's mark, all of his sorrow and hatred projected onto the ones he blamed for it, which was pretty much everyone.

"But I didn't do  _anything!_ " Marlene squealed. She'd never hurt the Planet, and had never crossed paths with Sephiroth, only his Remnants.

Unless Eden was the cause, but for all of his bullying antics, he was too friendly. There were times he seemed kind of down, but he really wasn't hateful. He would never do something like this to her! Pulling her hair, stealing her stuff, or freaking her out with bugs was more his style.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Marlene held herself and rocked for a few frantic seconds, mortified and perplexed. She was going to be in so much trouble when Yuffie, Reeve, or Tifa saw this. They'd warned her not to worry. They'd told her so many times that all she had to do was be a good, happy girl like always, and she'd be okay. If Tifa saw it, would it make her worse? She would see how badly she'd let her down, and then what? Marlene decided she was going to have to stay trapped in here until she could figure something out. Maybe she could wear long sleeves and gloves, she thought. But it wasn't very cold out. No one would fall for that.

She was having a hard time coming up with anything. Marlene tried all the usual tricks to make something frightening and evil like this go away fast. She made sure she wasn't having a nightmare after all, and pinched herself really hard, while concentrating on how relieved she'd feel when she woke up. But that did nothing but leave a nasty, red mark on her forearm. Then, she tried covering the ugly stigma rash, and uncovering it. It was still there, but she had to be sure she wasn't just imagining it.

She glared at it angrily and silently proclaimed that she didn't believe in it or its maker. Instead of getting better or disappearing, it began to burn and weep dark ooze. Marlene covered her mouth with her good hand to keep from screaming too loud.

Despite her best efforts to keep quiet, she saw her door's handle turn, and she scurried into a corner, panicking. Someone knew she was awake and had come to check on her. There was nothing she could do now.

Eden slipped in quietly, and pulled it closed behind him, just in time to turn and see the black, drippy mess her arm had turned into.

"Don't tell," she peeped. Her eyes were bloodshot and glazed over with pained, unshed tears.

Eden halfheartedly smiled at her. "It's our secret," he agreed, fumbling with the object in his pocket.

He knelt next to her, and gently pried her infected limb away from the other one's grasp.

"Oww…careful!" Marlene yelped.

"Wow, so fast…Why are you afraid?" Eden asked her, deeply impressed with the handiwork in front of him.

"I'm scared for Tifa…I don't want her to die…and..and…I don't want to die, either!" Marlene cried, and shuddered as Eden inspected her.

"You won't. You're both…special. Tifa, most of all," Eden replied as he released her and stood, fishing out the item in his pocket, the vial he'd stowed away earlier. "I found this at that W.R.O. place. It might help."

Marlene brightened. That boy was always up to all kinds of mischief, but this time she was glad. He might be able to help her. "Really?"

"Yeah. We can try it, but I want you to do something." Eden was excited, practically glowing as he beheld the vial in the lamp's light. Such a treasure Mother had provided him!

"Eden, it hurts…"

"Be my sister, for real."

"Okay..." He was confusing her. Weren't they already sort of like brother and sister, at least sometimes? "I will."

"Good. Drink this," Eden handed her the vial after snapping open the top. "It doesn't look good, but it should make you stop hurting."

She eyed the thick, black fluid, doubtful. It looked almost identical to the disgusting liquid seeping from her arm. "Maybe we should ask Yuffie first…" Yuffie might be disappointed, but she and Vincent knew more about this stuff than she and Eden combined.

"I don't think that's a good idea. It's not just them down there, and people in the bar get mean when they see a mark," Eden objected. His reservations were genuine; Yuffie had been running the bar while Tifa was incapacitated. He not only wanted to keep his secret safe, he didn't want a bunch of drunken adults ganging up on Marlene.

In too much pain to rethink it, Marlene shut her eyes, and threw back the contents of the vial in one huge gulp.

Eden nearly jumped in delight, holding his breath. He could already sense his Mother's cells resonating within her, working away at her frail human form, changing her. As quick as it had appeared, the dark, grimy Geostigma rash on her left arm sank inside, leaving her skin smooth and clean.

Every cell in her body started to vibrate. Marlene planted her hands on the floor, and tried to crawl toward her bed, but something was wrong. She'd never had to put so much effort into moving a few feet. A sheen of sweat covered her face while she kept trying. The excruciating pain had vanished as Eden had promised, but it was replaced by an overwhelming heat and dizziness. Her room looked like it was rocking back and forth, as though they were on a boat at sea. Her arms and legs were so light and tingly, she could barely control their movement. Static noise, like heavy whispering, filled her ears. It was impossible to move straight forward, or even to focus on where she wanted to go, so she just lowered herself to the floor again, and lay there, nearly hyperventilating.

What was happening to her? Maybe she really was going to die…

Before she could start panicking again, she saw Eden hovering nearby. Marlene felt his small hands lift her head and tuck a pillow beneath it. His eyes looked strange, she noticed. He looked like an angry cat. Mentally, she cowered. This was a lot like what had happened to Denzel, wasn't it?

But no. Eden was taking care of her. She wanted to trust him. Kadaj had used all of those kids three years ago. He'd kidnapped them, brainwashed them, and then practically fed them to monsters. This was very different. She was still safe in her room at home, being treated by her adoptive little brother. He was making sure she was comfortable, giving her pillows and blankets while she couldn't move, and wiping away the icky sweat streaming from her forehead. Nothing was wrong; some medicines did nasty things before working all the way, she reminded herself.

Marlene felt herself slipping off to sleep, and her heart wasn't pounding so fast anymore. Rest. She'd get some rest, get better, and then she needed to go—where? What a weird thought. She just knew she needed to go. When she was able, there was somewhere she  _desperately_ needed to be.

"We can go together, Marlene," Eden cooed, seeming to read her mind. He was holding her hand, smiling as she'd never seen before, like someone had just given him the world. "I know where Mother is now. I'll show you something amazing when we reach her."

"Yeah…together," Marlene mindlessly repeated, snuggling into her pillow, closing her eyes.

"And then…to the Promised Land," he added when he was sure his new sister was fast asleep.

Such a lovable puppet she would make. With her, he could guide Tifa to do precisely what he needed.

 


	15. Try

The water was scalding hot; cleansing, providing the illusion of relief Tifa had been craving. Her skin lightly stung, turning a faint pinkish hue, but she stood still beneath the shower head, her neck receiving the brunt of the water's force while she worked her fingers through her hair. This was the first time in days she hadn't simply rushed in and out, soaping up and rinsing off as quickly as possible, only to retreat back to her room. She never imagined that such a simple, mundane task could feel this dangerous.

Because if she was going to go this far, to make herself presentable, she might as well get dressed in her normal clothes, and while she was at that, checking up on how everyone had been faring while she'd basically checked out wasn't too far out of her way. That was going to be so embarrassing, so shameful. Tifa was tremendously ashamed she'd allowed herself to cave into a depression deep enough that she'd momentarily turned away from those who needed her. It would have been one thing if she had been merely giving up on herself, but it was quite another to forsake everyone else in the process. She'd made some horrible, irrevocable mistakes, and she felt as though they had marked her as unworthy and tainted—"unfit", as Cloud had once dismally judged himself. She was plagued by the looming sensation that anything she touched would either rot or turn against her.

But those feelings had to stop mattering at some point. Concentrating on her self-defeat wasn't as important as caring for Marlene and Eden. Maybe Yuffie, Reeve, and Vincent could do without her, but not the kids. She owed it to Marlene and Barret to show her that she still had something resembling a loving parent left in the world, and her protective streak over Eden remained as strong as ever. It had actually grown. The poor little guy was going to die soon, whether because Vincent and the others forced the issue, or because he wasn't allowed to have his Reunion. She still believed there was more human about Eden than what wasn't, so she'd see to it that his last days on Gaia's surface were lived knowing he wasn't despised, and as comfortable as she could make him.

She'd discovered the faintest glimmer of hope, despite the child's fate. Perhaps when he returned to Sephiroth, Eden's attachments to the Planet's life would be resilient enough to weaken the man's will, and he'd diffuse into the Lifestream at long last. It was a long shot at best, but worth a try. Anything that held the slightest hint of hope was worth trying at this point.

As the water turned lukewarm, Tifa dipped her head directly under the spray, smoothing out any left-over conditioner before turning it off and stepping out. In spite of the balmy, humidifying effect the shower had on the bathroom, it was still freezing by comparison. Shivering, she toweled off and dressed quickly.

Marlene should see her first, she decided. She'd lost count of how many times Yuffie had to guide the girl away from her room. At least once, she'd sounded like she was on the verge of tears, begging to know what was wrong. But she still walked away, obedient in the end, never wishing to displease anyone who cared for her. Tifa knew she was pushing Marlene way too hard, asking for too much in expecting her to act like everything was going to work out in the end. Marlene was young, not stupid.

After combing out her hair, Tifa exited the bathroom, and quietly made her way down the hall to Marlene's room. It was still rather early in the morning, so she wasn't surprised to see the door shut, with no light streaming out from underneath. Softly, she turned the handle, and peeked inside. It was dark, but there was a stench, a rancid and unmistakable odor that made Tifa's stomach bottom out. No, she wasn't sensitive to it; not enough to nauseate her but knowing where that smell usually came from most certainly did.

Frantically fumbling for the switch, Tifa flipped on Marlene's main overhead light. She was startled to see that the girl wasn't actually in her bed, but awkwardly curled up with a blanket and a few pillows right next to it. Several feet to the right, near the night lamp, a black, slimy puddle had started to stain the wooden floor. Marlene didn't react at all to the brighter light flooding the room. She didn't groan, curl up tighter, or so much as roll over.

Without another thought, Tifa dashed to Marlene's side, and lifted her up onto the bed, tearing away the blankets she dragged with her. "No…no, no, no," she mumbled, panic-stricken.

Marlene's skin was clammy and sickly pale, and her whole body was limp. Fearing the worst, Tifa checked her breath and pulse after setting her down and heaved a strangled sigh of relief when she found both. In fact, her heart was beating abnormally fast, as if she'd been running. Working swiftly, Tifa began checking over every inch of Marlene for where the Geostigma rash was hiding. It had to be a large one, considering how much ichor had bled out onto the floor. When her arms and legs proved clean, she pulled up her shirt and checked her back and stomach. There was still no sign of it. Then, she inspected Marlene's hands, feet, neck, and even her scalp. Nothing even resembling Geostigma was to be found anywhere on her, save for her apparent coma and elevated heart rate.

Anxious and dumbfounded, there was one last thing Tifa could think to look for. Something about this part was the most terrifying. Silently, she prayed to Gaia that this was just a freakish misunderstanding. Maybe that stain on the floor was something else, and Marlene was only suffering from a severe case of the flu. Gently, she lifted Marlene's eyelid, and peered closely. At first, all she saw was her normal, unconscious brown eye, rolled slightly back into her head. But then, there it was—small streaks of yellowish impurities broke out in the iris, while the pupil contracted in the light. It shrunk down not into a small black bead as it should have, but into tiny, focused slit.

"How…Marlene?" Tifa quietly cried, sinking to her knees on the floor, holding the girl's cold hand.

Tifa's mind raced between the brutal recognition that Marlene's infected state was her fault and needing to call Yuffie or Vincent for help. Marlene's strength and child-like faith had finally given out, and with that, Sephiroth's stigma had found a new victim. She shouldn't have kept the kids at bay, Tifa silently bemoaned. Comforting and strengthening others was at least where much of Marlene's resilience had come from, but she'd second guessed her and deprived her of it when she needed it most. This was the price, and she should have known better. She did know better, didn't she?

Nearly tripping over, Tifa shook herself free of her grievous haze, and stomped down the hall. "Vincent! Vincent?" she called out, barely stopping short of running face-first into him. "It's Marlene—"

Vincent spared no words for the unnerved woman before him, immediate stalking down to Marlene's room. Tifa trailed close behind. He took in every detail he could discern, rather than only the young victim. Instantly, he spotted the stain on the floor. "You checked her?"

"Yeah, but I couldn't find where the stuff came from. It's her eyes," Tifa directed him.

Vincent copied Tifa's previous actions, inspecting the girl's eyes, before straightening and flipping open his cell. "Reeve? Is the medical ward up and running?...Good. We're bringing Marlene."

"Can they help her?" Tifa asked, already knowing the answer.

"We'll see. She must have had Geostigma, but this is new."

Biting back on her chaotic emotions, she gathered Marlene into her arms, careful to leave one blanket wrapped around her shoulders. At least she didn't seem to be in pain. At least they'd caught it early. At least there was somewhere they could take her that could have a clue as to what had happened. Tifa ran all the reasons why Marlene might actually recover through her mind repeatedly, but she couldn't place much faith in any of them. Geostigma was emotional and spiritual as well as physical; who was to say she wasn't in agony? Everyone knew the new strain was a fast mover, so how could they presume to know what "early" even meant? And the W.R.O.'s lab, for all its expertise and research, had made precious little progress in containing or curing the disease. Anything anyone tried was still tantamount to a shot in the dark.

* * *

 

The small girl stumbled through long grass and wildflowers. Her knees buckled, her legs gave out, and she fell forward on all fours. Petals, leaves, and stems decayed and shriveled up. They wilted and died at her very touch.

"Marlene. Mar-lene," she pronounced thickly. That was her name, wasn't it? She remembered someone named Marlene; it felt like it should have been her.

Weakly, she looked up. There was somebody coming. A lady, the flower girl, Aerith. The rotten patch of flora beneath her palms and knees spread, ever so gradually. Marlene hugged herself. Aerith was going to be very disappointed in her when she saw what she'd done to the flowers.

"It's okay. It's not your fault," the flower lady answered her fears. "Come with me, Marlene."

Marlene glanced over her crossed arms at the hand reaching out for her. The poisoned patch of earth expanded still, and at its edge, she watched as Aerith took baby-steps backward to avoid coming into direct contact with it. Marlene shook her head. It was too dangerous to move.

"Just go away," she whimpered. "Go away…"

Marlene. That's who she'd been once upon a time, in a disparate, not-so-distant memory. This girl only looked like her. She only sounded and felt like her. She even carried all of Marlene's memories, but once she'd joined Eden, she could be that girl no longer.

Because Marlene was human, a sweet, caring human child. She was none of those things anymore, because Mother had come for her, had made her into a new scion for the Reunion. Her purpose was to act in Marlene's stead, to pretend to be the little girl she once was, and to guide the humans into giving Eden his Reunion.

Then, Sephiroth would come.

Didn't that name once frighten her? It did, she recalled. That man had murdered people she'd loved in cold blood and sought to destroy the Planet itself. But it wasn't truly destruction. She understood that now; Mother had taught her. The killings were only to remove obstacles, and in the end, it was a cleansing perfection, and it was beautiful.

Eden had tried to show her, when she was still the innocent girl, with all his little stories. She should have been afraid, but instead, she'd found the strangest, most mesmerizing comfort in them. He'd made her a believer, although she didn't fully comprehend in what at the time.

"You don't have to be scared, Marlene," Aerith continued, stretching her arm as far as she could, bending over. "Cloud and your dad are waiting. They want to see you again."

Marlene squirmed. Hearing about them hurt. Seeing this flower lady made her want to cry. She remembered why; she still knew who they'd all been to her before Mother claimed her. A small, lingering part of her spirit clung helplessly to those old feelings. Marlene's transformation was unfinished.

Aerith was here to offer her a gentle death before Mother could complete it, she realized. That was the only way she could be with Cloud and her daddy again, and how it was before. Once she was changed, they would be lost to her until Sephiroth rose.

Everything and everyone would live again in him. He would halt the endless, useless cycle of life and death. Only he would remain, eternal, one with Mother and Gaia. Unstoppable.

Except for Tifa. Eden said that Tifa was special, and that she wouldn't die. Marlene was a little jealous of Tifa now, because she was going to get to see everything happen. Sephiroth wanted her to witness everything he'd do, and all he'd become, forever.

"Marlene…?" A trace of urgency crept into the normally calm, collected Ancient's voice.

Marlene's body unfurled, and she lay back on the dry, dead earth.

Aerith recoiled, retracted her hand, and leapt back a few steps. "It's not that far. You can still make it, Marlene. All you have to do is try," she plead with her.

Try, the flower girl told her. Try. What was the point in that? Cloud had done nothing but try, and now he was dead. Her daddy had tried, and the same fate befell him. Trying was the very reason Aerith had returned to the Lifestream. Wasn't it a better idea not to try at all? If she put forth the effort to reach for her, if she crawled those few feet to Aerith, death would also be her reward. She'd return to the Planet, and then what? Wouldn't her soul be scattered? There was a time when Marlene might have accepted it, but she hated the very thought of it now. It made her seethe with an intense rage she'd never felt before.

Mother's soothing presence thrummed within her veins. She didn't need to worry about those idle things. There was no need to budge an inch or bother herself in remembering her former life. Marlene was just a name, nothing else. Her true existence was in carrying out a much greater will.

She felt like she was falling, then. Chunky bits of pungent soil changed into smooth, clean sheets. The nauseating scent of flowers switched over to that of tolerable, sterile disinfectant. A latex-covered finger pried one of her eyes open, while another hand flashed a bright light into it.

" _We can't say conclusively that it's Geostigma…"_

" _A new strain, maybe? The connection to Jenova is undeniable…"_

" _She's not dying. At least we have that…"_

" _Hey, was there any word on that blood sample that went missing after the attack…?"_

Too many voices were speaking at once, and she didn't recognize any of them. Vague remnants of the dream she'd been having flashed in and out of her mind's eye. Aerith had been there, but she'd told her to go away. Why would she do something like that? If there was anyone left who could help all of them—Tifa, Vincent, Yuffie, Reeve, herself, and even Eden, it had to be Aerith.

"Come back…" Marlene croaked out, trying to lift her arms, her head; anything.

Tifa appeared above her, at her side, and brushed her hair back from her face. Tifa was okay! Marlene wept, squinting her eyes and sucking in deep breaths of air, trying again to move. Without asking, Tifa undid the restraints around her arms and legs, and helped her sit upright. Marlene's head swam, and she gagged.

"I see she's finally come to," Reeve said, joining Tifa.

"She's awake, but still really disoriented," Tifa said, and frowned slightly. "Don't go too hard on her…Marlene, Reeve needs to ask you some questions, okay?"

Marlene nodded timidly, rubbing her stomach. Not a single part of her body felt normal. Some parts were sick or broken, while others just felt different. It scared her, but she calmed somewhat when Tifa didn't get up and leave like she thought she would.

Reeve took a seat on Marlene's other side with an open notebook. Usually, he'd leave this routine to the medical team, but Marlene hadn't fallen ill until after her first visit at the lab. More than that, it was personal to him. If the child of a close friend was in this condition because of mishandled materials in a W.R.O. lab, he wanted to take direct responsibility. It would never make up for the hopelessness of the situation, but it was all he could do.

"Marlene, can you tell me what it felt like when you first got sick?" he asked, trying to phrase it simply.

"Cold…and itchy," she meekly replied, rubbing tenderly at the arm that the mark had briefly coated.

"Did you see any strange marks or rashes on your skin?"

Marlene bit her lower lip and pulled her legs into her chest. "…It went away."

Reeve scribbled something down and leaned forward. "What went away?"

"…Geostigma."

"Can you tell Tifa and I how it went away?"

Marlene balled up even tighter, trying to disappear. Eden gave her something he stole from the lab. She didn't want him to get in trouble. "I don't know…"

Tifa softly touched Marlene's shoulder. She could tell the girl was trying to hide something; she was a horrible liar. "You won't get in trouble, I promise."

"I…I found something the last time we came here. I was going to give it back, but then we had to run away," Marlene lied.

"What was it that you found?" Reeve asked.

"A tube with some black stuff. When I got sick, I thought it was medicine, so I drank it. I'm sorry…" Marlene sniffed hard when she told part of the truth, smearing her tear-stained cheeks with the tips of her fingers. "I was afraid what would happen to Tifa when she found out. She was already too sad."

Tifa closed her eyes and held a hand over her mouth. She'd been right, she was to blame. But more importantly, what in the world could Marlene have taken that would do this to her?

"One more question, Marlene. Do you remember any writing on the tube?"

"Mmhmm. It said 'J-1'," Marlene confirmed.

Reeve snapped his notebook shut. Of all the places the missing vial could have gone, he would have never expected this. Marlene had indeed been cured of Geostigma, but it was an assimilatory healing. She couldn't die from the disease because it was now symbiotic with her. How was he supposed to tell Tifa that what she'd ingested was a pure blood sample taken from the original Jenova specimen, and that technically, Marlene was no longer entirely human?

* * *

 

Eden slowly made a round on both floors of Seventh Heaven. Yuffie was the only one home, and she was napping in Tifa's room. He already knew where the others were; his newly formed relationship with Marlene allowed him to sense her. In a little while, she'd stop feeling so ill. Their strengthened bond was well worth her small bout of sickness. The thought sent shivers up his spine, and he felt that familiar, heavier presence lurking within his mind, his home and true self.

Someone had attempted to stop Mother from changing Marlene, thinking to take her away from him instead, but that person had failed. Marlene had made the choice on her own, with nothing left hidden from her. She knew everything about him, and once she understood that Mother could take away her sadness, it had been an easy one. Marlene had known little else but grief for most of her life, but now she didn't have to be sad over everyone she'd lost, because she wasn't like them anymore. Now, she was aligned with him.

Walking into the bar's kitchen area, Eden crawled into one of the floor-level cupboards. They made nice thinking spots when one was empty. Tifa had started keeping them extra clean when she found out he liked to hide in them. Snuggling up with his knees, he hummed. Tifa's future could be paradise, or it could be torment. That was her choice. She was too attached to Gaia, though; he knew she'd fight him every step of the way.

"Then, I will give her clarity."

" _Then, I will give her clarity."_

Sephiroth's voice overlapped his own, and the child knew that the person everyone knew as "Eden" was but an illusion. His thoughts, his feelings, and his memories were all reflections of his master's. The boy was starting to feel homesick in a way, tired of existing as a mere fragment of a person.

Their work was almost done. When he became whole, neither Gaia nor that Cetra woman would have the power to interfere again. The Planet was as good as underfoot, but the mind and soul of one Tifa Lockhart stood, ever persistent as long as she could fight for anyone. He'd invaded that curious mind, swam in her spirit, and tasted perseverance almost better than human. Oh, she was still beneath him, but her usefulness extended far beyond that of just another droplet of spirit energy for him to absorb.

If Tifa saw everything he could accomplish throughout eternity, then his retribution against Cloud would be fulfilled. That was his initial plan for her, once only intended as a device of never-ending torture. But as Eden, as  _he_ grew closer to Tifa, he began to see that no matter how much he twisted, hurt, or infected her, she would never truly break. It was possible to turn her into a massive nervous wreck, to make all of her decisions work against her, but he couldn't make a true puppet of her, because her will was too strong to part from her sense of identity. She hadn't changed his plans by showing him her resolve, but she had altered what he meant to affect in her immeasurably.

Eden rested his head against the back of the cupboard and smiled.

What Sephiroth wanted now was to show this intriguing creature his benevolence for how willfully compliant she'd been. Yes, he'd manipulated her and led her on in his child-like manifestation, but even when she understood that, she refused to let go of "Eden". Perhaps Lockhart pulled her own strings? For that, he preferred to see her bowed before him in reverence, rather than doubled over on his sword in the bloody throes of death. Why should there remain absolute enmity between them? Tifa knew what "Eden" was and cherished him still. Simple acceptance of the whole was only a small step.

Perdition was wasted on her; she offered him too much to explore in her being, so he'd chosen her to partake of a different fate. Once deified, Sephiroth planned to keep Tifa as his oracle. In the limitlessness of time, her grief over her home world would fade, and eventually vanish. Such was the ephemeral nature of basic human emotion, but he also wondered if she was capable of more.

Miles below Seventh Heaven and all of Edge, infected currents of Lifestream coalesced and raced by, lamenting and consuming the pure. They pooled in waiting, marking the city as ground zero for the Reunion. Cautious, not making the smallest sound, Eden emerged from his hiding place, and slinked out the bar's front door. Even though it was mid-afternoon, Edge was asleep as it once had been in the middle of the night. Only its storied buildings and winding highways told of the busy place it had been. The population had been dwindling, and many of its surviving citizens were starting to move on, superstitious that the Midgar area was cursed ground, damned to replay the world's end again and again.

Fluttering and cawing suddenly broke out in the sky above, and Eden looked to see a huge flock of birds rising from the rooftops, forming long chains of migrating V's. They attacked each other at first, sorting out and killing the ones that were infected. Black-greased feathers fell to the ground like toxic snow, followed by light thuds of fallen bodies. Their screams grew louder and louder, until they reorganized, and flew away. Afterward, an alley cat or two crept out of the shadows to pick at the corpses, but turned their noses up at the carrion, and ran away hissing.

Eden pressed the palm of his hand against the concrete, and softly laughed. All those animals could feel it coming, too. They were running for their lives. The boy decided it was time to go for a long walk. All he needed to do was follow the darker currents churning below.

Marlene would be very surprised to see him.

 


	16. A Vision in the Wastes

Yuffie had come to a sudden understanding of what mothers mean when they say that they "just knew" something wrong was up with their kids. Like an epiphany, it hit her moments after the back of her head slammed into the wooden floor of Tifa's bedroom. Or, perhaps that was the just aftermath of blunt-force head trauma…

She couldn't seem to identify the noise that had woken her out of such a nice, sound sleep. All she knew was that it was loud, screeching, annoying, and kind of terrifying. Too busy thrashing about to make any sense of it at first, Yuffie had tumbled out of bed.

Screeching, cawing, hooting...birds! That was it. She recognized the sound as she rubbed the egg-shaped bump that was forming where she'd hit her head. A huge flock of birds was flying overhead, calling out to one another. That's all it was.

"Owww! That's mean!" she protested, scowling at the ceiling.

But once they had passed, it was too quiet. Yuffie strained to hear something; anything, but she couldn't make out the slightest noise. It was too early for Eden to have gone to bed already, and while the larva-kid was quite proficient in the art of creeping around, not even he was  _this_ quiet. He was always talking to himself or scurrying about somewhere.

Yuffie reluctantly stood, still feeling a bit groggy and dizzy, and listened closer. Still nothing. She felt her stomach sink a little but brushed the feeling off for now. Slowly, she tip-toed down the hall to the kids' rooms. Marlene's room was securely locked in anticipation that the W.R.O. would want to send a research team to gather evidence for what had happened to her. Eden's room was wide open, on the other hand. He'd left all of his lights on, and his closet doors were ajar. On his thoroughly wrecked bed, he'd carelessly tossed aside his beloved black chocobo plush. It now rested comfortably in the middle of a mountain of blankets.

Frankly, it looked like a tornado had ripped through the boy's room, leaving no survivors. But she still couldn't account for the kid who had triggered the disaster. Yuffie huffed, flustered, and stalked halfway back down the hall.

"Heeeerree, Eden, Eden!" she called out to him and whistled. He absolutely hated when she did that, but it was a sure-fire way to get his attention when he was otherwise disinterested.

Normally, she would have heard the repeated stomp of angry little feet immediately afterward, but not this time. Not even the apparently empty building seemed to want to do her the favor of creaking or groaning to make up for it. Outside, the air was still; there was no wind or rain to which it could resound.

She was genuinely worried now. Turning on one heel, Yuffie sprinted the rest of the way back through the hall, and all but jumped downstairs. She scoured the bar area for any sign of the boy. She double-checked to make sure all the knives and dangerous kitchen equipment were in place, afraid that she'd find him cut up or worse. Lastly, she resorted to pulling each and every cupboard open, until she ran into one that wasn't completely shut.

Eden had to have been in there recently, she concluded. There wasn't anywhere left to look. But he couldn't have disappeared into nowhere, could he? There were no truly substantial clues, just that one cupboard. What if, as a Remnant who didn't get his way, he really did just vanish?

Vaulting over the bar's counter, Yuffie spared one last, lazy look around. Then, she caught it. There was a little too much space between the door and the wall. Seventh Heaven's front door was ever so slightly ajar, indicating that someone coming or going had failed to close it all the way. The thing would have made some considerable noise if it was properly closed; enough to vibrate the upstairs windows and wake her, but it hadn't.

Yuffie growled and followed that hint. The little brat had probably gone outside without telling her!

Outside, the eerie stillness was even more imposing and thicker somehow. "Eden!" she called out to him again, her irate voice echoing off the walls of neighboring buildings and getting lost in empty alleyways. "Eeeden!"

Turning a corner, she saw a tiny speck of a person moving slowly on the horizon, growing smaller and smaller on the road out of Edge. "Oh, come on!" she complained. She wanted to doubt it was Eden, but there was literally not another living thing in sight.

The moving figure was at least a mile ahead of her, so she needed to make a choice. Should she risk leaving Eden home alone to pursue a shadow she only thought might be him, or gamble on staying put without knowing for sure if she was letting him slip through her hands?

"Grr..no time to think!" Yuffie barked at herself and tore down the road.

That kid was going to get the lecture of a lifetime if and when she got a hold of him.

* * *

 

Eden paused, and gazed back at the city of Edge. He lifted his eyes heavenward, beholding the demolished ShinRa tower. He felt empty, and as though he was floating for that moment. He'd walked a little over a mile by now, but his legs hadn't tired, nor had he run out of breath. No one bothered him in his slow trek. There were too few people left to take note of a solitary boy padding through the barren streets. Likewise, there was almost no traffic to notice him as he wandered into the wastes. Security checkpoints that existed on the outskirts only weeks ago now stood vacant. Anyone who'd passed him just kept driving; they had their own children and skins to worry about.

He had to keep walking. At the end of his long journey, Tifa and Marlene were waiting. Eden was so happy—overjoyed—that Marlene would be joining him for his Reunion. Tifa and Marlene had never passed him by, locked him away, or pointed and gawked like everyone else did.

Contemplative, the boy took a seat on the dusty, cracked ground. He traced circles and swirls with his pointer fingers, half entranced by their smooth, sweeping motions-round, looping and connecting endlessly. If he wanted it, there was a faster way to the lab. All he had to do…

Eden stared back down the road again. Currents of Geostigma's taint reverberated in every house, down every alley and by-way, and in the very soil beneath him. It permeated Gaia's being in this place. It filled the ears, eyes, and hearts of everyone here, even if they weren't sick yet.

" _Choking it; corroding it…"_

They—all those infected, marked by the Stigma—would respond if he called to them. But someone was already heading his way, uninvited.

Yuffie. Eden narrowed his eyes, and bowed his head, digging his left pointer finger deep into one of the circles he'd drawn.

"That girl never ceases to patronize us…"

" _That girl never ceases to patronize us…"_

She was a shameless traitor, playing herself off as the child's best friend, only to instigate those who insisted on calling for his death! If not for her, he might have gone deeper into the recesses of Tifa's subconscious, and obliterated that sacred, traumatized spot that made her despise his true form. Yuffie underestimated him even now; even with Marlene's transformation under way. She was still perfectly content to act the concerned, ignorant babysitter when she'd seen what he was capable of.

Yuffie had  _insulted_  him. Only loving dedication or fierce hatred and fear were acceptable to Eden. Complacency like hers had no place in his world. So, it was time to show her; give her a stronger taste of who and what she kept interfering with. While her tiny silhouette grew larger on the horizon, Eden dug all of his fingers into the loops he'd drawn, broadcasting his will through Gaia's very pulse. He could feel the world fighting back ever so weakly, but he easily broke through, releasing an impulse to any infected being nearby.

They would come to him, irresistibly drawn; they no longer owned themselves. Eden plucked his fingers up from the ground, and stood, raising his arms skyward. Dry brush and grass seemingly uprooted themselves, bleeding dark ooze at their roots. Sickly, wormy flora slithered along the ground, and clung to his feet.

Yuffie ran faster and faster as the wind picked up. Eden watched her, cold and unmoving, yet tugging very gently at the invisible strings of corroded spirit energy he'd wrapped around his fingers. He delayed her course, manipulating the feeding and attacking instincts of Stigma-stricken beasts, monsters, and late-stage humans. She had to fight her way through them, temporarily fleeing from some to give her space, making it difficult for her to stay on the path.

But this was not enough. Those simple beasts could not stop her, nor would they prove anything. Eden lowered his arms, and a small tremor coursed through down through his body and into his feet as the energy he'd summoned left him. He wanted, needed to be whole again; to return from whom he'd come. The tiny, diluted fragments of Mother's being that Geostigma victims carried would never suffice for the real thing.

Yuffie persisted still, sprinting toward him while cutting down the few near- zombified, insane human attackers in her path almost effortlessly. She was going to reach him, and when she did, she'd force him to return home. Tifa would never harm him, but what about her? Yuffie might be just frightened or angry enough by now to do that. He wanted her to be too afraid to touch him, save for taking him the rest of the way to the lab. All the fatigue he'd pushed to the back of his mind tumbled forth, and Eden knew there was no way he could walk it.

Crumbling to his knees, Eden sobbed. If only he could experience a small foreshadowing of his long-awaited Reunion. He was nearer to his true form than ever before, but it wasn't as though he could simply tap into Sephiroth's power at will.

* * *

 

Their eyes were bloodshot and barely blinking, with pupils dilated to tiny points. Their skin was pale and coated in a mixed sheen of dark slime, blood, and sweat. These people were very sick; on the verge of death, but they'd shambled out from Edge anyway. They seemed intent only on attacking her. One man threw a sloppy punch as his eyes rolled back into his head. Another one, a diseased woman, swiped feebly at Yuffie, trying to scratch or smack her, but missed.

The small pack of monsters that had preceded them was tedious at worst to fight off, but this new onslaught made the young woman's conscience do a double take. Was she even supposed to be fighting back? Or, should she be trying to calm them and lead them back to their homes, where they'd die their painful, grueling deaths in peace? One of her ill assailants emitted an agonizing rasp as he hobbled and flailed, struggling against his own jerky, spasmodic movements.

Confused, Yuffie hopped back, out of their arms' reach. None of these people were in control of their bodies, she realized. They moaned, cried, and gasped with each attack for the strain they were under. Simply pursuing her had probably worn them out; they all made brief, pathetic attempts to arrest their arms and legs, but failed.

"Alright…whoa, okay. I get what's going on," she said, side stepping out of yet another person's range. "You guys probably can't even help it…"

How she wished Vincent was around for this! Sure, Yuffie had killed more than her fair share of monsters, crooks, and various sorts of creepy weirdos. They all had it coming! But this…she didn't know if she could go through with it. These were average people who'd done nothing wrong. Yet, watching them suffer, she knew she had to. They practically needed her to. If Vincent had been present, he'd have coolly commanded her to put them out of their misery. And then, if she couldn't pull it off, he would have finished the job.

Planting her feet, Yuffie sent her shuriken spinning toward the closest person's neck, half-severing his head. The body collapsed in a sorry, bloody pile, while the others stared in sleepy shock as they continued forward. Unwillingly, they trampled the fallen man. Her stomach lurched at the gory sight, and Yuffie ran several yards off road, hoping that they'd relent before she was forced to do it again. Still, they plodded on, weeping and wordlessly begging their unseen puppet master for mercy.

Then, out of nowhere, the victims halted their assault. Lined up almost perfectly, the group did an about-face, and began trudging further down the road, deeper into the wastelands. Yuffie fell out of her defensive stance and followed them from several feet behind. Between their clustered forms, she could make out Eden, slouched over. He was probably exhausted after walking so far for someone his size…

Struck by a morbid idea, Yuffie paused in her chase.

Wouldn't it be so easy, maybe too easy, simply to let the small hoard of the infected meet with the boy? Would doing nothing this time make it so that neither Tifa nor Reeve were forced to endure having to end his life? Yuffie had a sneaking suspicion that Eden had something to do with Marlene's bizarre new illness. If she was right, then that would really have to be the end of the road for the kid. Eden would have to go. But if he perished while foolishly running away, at least Tifa could sleep at night. If it could just be an unfortunate accident, then no one would really have to take the blame.

Yuffie chose to trail them much slower now, keeping a wary eye out for more monsters. The dying, struggling, insane group flocked around Eden, their anguished, incoherent groans suddenly fading out. Then, they fell completely silent.

Timidly circling the party, she caught another glimpse of Eden. He was tightly curled into himself, violently shaking; fearfully hushed. So very tempting it was to rethink what she was doing, or rather, what she wasn't. These people were going to perish either way, and there the small, peculiar child sat, terrified beyond his ability to vocalize it. Yuffie grabbed her shuriken again, still stalking around the macabre scene. Just letting it play out had felt like a great solution for a few minutes, but no matter what she suspected of Eden, she couldn't bring herself to play the part of an apathetic bystander. She hadn't chased him out all this way only to stand and watch him be devoured or maimed by zombies! At least, these people looked more than enough like zombies.

"Ugh…is this how she feels?" Yuffie whispered. She knew too well that this was but a tiny microbe of the weight resting on Tifa's shoulders.

Fickle in her plans, she stepped back to fend the ailing figures off of him. But before she released her weapon, they started  _melting!_  Yuffie barreled forward to push them away from Eden but stumbled over nothing. The sloppy black slime that formed as the bodies disintegrated almost instantly evaporated into a fine, charcoal mist.

Like a sponge, Eden was absorbing it.

Yuffie froze, terrified. Now, it seemed as though  _her_  life might be at stake. Everything around her disappeared except for the sound of her blood rushing in her ears, and the sight of that little boy sucking up the remains of Geostigma- corrupted souls. She'd heard of how victims of the new strain died. She'd even helped with a few clean-up efforts. But to see it happen, and witness how the child Remnant reacted…she couldn't seem to break free of her shock. She was paralyzed.

Once all the mist had entered him, Eden rose from his fetal position, wide eyed and smirking at her maliciously. An enormous halo of white, blinding light flared into existence behind him, rotating counterclockwise, and there stood the shadow of a tall man with one wing, overshadowing him. Yuffie stared, partially mesmerized and open-mouthed. He could be no one else…

Eden lifted his hands joyously, and the being behind him mirrored his motion. Or, was it the other way around…?

"I have become one with this Planet."

" _I have become one with this Planet."_

Although they both remained in front of her, Yuffie felt something deliver a crushing blow to her lower back. Losing her balance, she caved to the aggravated pressure point, and fell to her hands and knees. She kept her eyes trained on the ground, too afraid to look up again.

Help. She needed help! "Aerith…Cloud…" she croaked. Who else was she supposed to call? Who else could handle something, someone like  _this?_

Dual laughter emanated from the child and his specter. Yuffie's head jerked harshly to the left in response to an unseen strike. Inside her closed mouth, a tooth busted loose from the force of the hit, and she tasted blood. Bowing her head, she straightened up and let her arms hang limp at her sides. She was certain that Eden and Sephiroth were about to kill her. There was little else to do but accept it, and hope they made it quick.

Oh, if she wasn't alone and frozen before this demigod wanna-be, she'd fight. She'd give the bastard a run for his money, and probably nab a few gil and materia in the process. But on her own against an enemy like him, she was helpless. Stupid, stupid irony, she figured. He was only a spirit, but the manifestation they'd all fought in the North Cave, and the one Cloud had dueled over Midgar paled in comparison to this new being before her. This Sephiroth was bent on manipulating them, destroying all their defenses, and all their hopes. He could come out of anywhere at any time, and what could she or her companions do about it? Nothing…not a damn thing!

So, she closed her eyes and waited. Yuffie waited and waited to be hit again; to be run-through or tortured. She was terrified and actually…a bit pissed off, once she allowed herself a split second more to think. Suddenly, it was glaringly obvious that Sephiroth only meant to toy with her. He only wished to use her to intimidate the others even more. If Tifa saw her, all broken and traumatized from this…No, she wouldn't let that happen. No way! She dared to let the tips of her fingers tap her hips impatiently. It wasn't the greatest act of defiance she'd ever committed, but it was better than nothing.

After too long, all Yuffie could hear was soft breathing. The light had vanished, she found upon peeking through one eye. Gradually, she forced her legs to let her stand back up. Her lower back was on fire, making it a somewhat trying task. Glancing about nervously, she discovered that her other eye was swollen shut. But she was alive, and Eden was still Eden, although very unconscious.

She knew it would hurt like hell to carry him, but Yuffie quickly resigned to the fact that she had little choice. The time for pretending he was just an eccentric, lonely kid in need of a friend was far past. From where they were, the W.R.O. lab was only a two-mile hike. Returning to Seventh Heaven could only make matters worse; the kid would run amuck. This little Remnant needed to be locked down like she, Vincent, Tifa, and Reeve had originally planned—and eventually, put down. The diversion created by Genesis' attack on the lab had already reaped too many grim consequences where Eden was concerned.

* * *

 

" _It's viral_ … _rapid-paced cell structural mutation…she must have been exposed to one of the Project S samples..."_

"… _recommend cold stasis to slow the process…"_

" _Tifa, listen. If we have any chance of saving Marlene…"_

" _Gaia, girl, you look like shit…here, go outside, have a smoke…"_

" _No, thanks. I don't…"_

" _Heh. Never a better time to start. The way things are going, doesn't look like we'll have too much longer…Either way, take a break. Get some air."_

Tifa rehashed all the voices she'd heard in the past hour, letting the back of her head hit one of the upper level lab walls as she slid to the burnt floor. There was Reeve, desperately trying to convince her that they wouldn't be freezing Marlene forever. And scientist after scientist, physician upon physician, prattling on about genetic and cell mutation. They'd tried to tell her that Marlene was no longer a human being. She'd walked away at that point. Tifa couldn't bear to listen to them anymore.

Then, there was that smoker nurse, who'd forced one of her cigarettes into Tifa's ownership. She eyed the thing warily. Just smelling all the second-hand crap in her bar was bad enough at times. Ironically, that bull-headed nurse had actually been the most understanding…She kind of reminded her of Cid.

She was stressed beyond her capacity to listen to scientific debates about how to keep Marlene from turning into…into what? An Eden clone? They'd mentioned something about her turning into a full-fledged, and most heavily populated S-Cell host since ShinRa's SOLDIER program, and how such a thing was thought to be impossible to survive without extensive Mako treatments. Tifa's head was spinning. She wasn't a scientist-she was a bar maid, a chef, and something of an accountant—anything she needed to be to run her business. Experimental alien biology was not on the list.

Eying the cancer stick in the palm of her hand, Tifa softly snorted, and pocketed it. Maybe she'd offer it to Sephiroth the next time he dropped in on her psyche. What would he do if she decided to act like she didn't give a shit anymore? She kind of wished she really didn't.

Tifa laughed, bitterly. She had no more tears left to cry. Some things that should have been mortifying were quickly turning almost hilarious. If she was going to give him a free cigarette, she might as well offer him a beer or something too. His days and nights spent plotting revenge and tormenting the living with his Stigma had to be tiring, right? And she, the ever-compassionate barkeep, could help even the great and terrible Sephiroth take a load off.

Leaning forward, she rested her forehead in the palms of her hands. It still smelled like fire out here, and from a bird's eye view, the earth was scarred with two huge, charred, overlapping circles. The W.R.O. had no time and hardly any manpower to clean up and repair the ground level. Securing malfunctions in the Stasis Center was the top priority, followed by restoring the medical wing. She released a shaky sigh, recalling again that they all wanted her to let them move Marlene into Jenova's containment. Yes, everyone pitied the girl, but anyone with a lab coat and a badge had quickly come to view her as more of a walking Reunion hazard than a medical emergency.

Tifa had back-handed one snobbish senior researcher who'd made the callous mistake of referring to Marlene as a "Remnant-equivalent". That, of course, had led her to being escorted out of triage until she could cool off. It wasn't even so much what that asshole had said; it was the condescending, unfeeling way he'd said it. He might as well have suggested that Marlene should be chopped into tiny bits, stuffed into various petri dishes and test tubes, and then categorized and labeled. Worst of all, his demeanor spoke volumes for Marlene's prognosis. Reeve and Vincent's attempts to assuage her anger failed after that.

Gaia, it had only been three hours since she and Vincent had rushed Marlene back to this frightening place! Three hours that were supposedly enough to label Barret's little girl a lost cause…

The gravel-laden ground before her crunched, then sifted, and crunched again. Taking her hands away from her face, Tifa beheld the most bruised, battered, and agonized Yuffie she'd ever seen. Half of her face was black and blue, and she had a dried trail of blood streaked down from her mouth. The younger, usually livelier woman was hunched over and panting, carrying a half-dead looking Eden on her back.

Without thinking, Tifa pried the boy off of her. "Yuffie! What happened to you? Who did this?" Carefully, she rested Eden against the wall, and offered her shoulder to Yuffie.

Half-collapsing onto Tifa, Yuffie giggled hysterically, "Ahaha…So, first, mini-Seph over there tried to run away…and then, theeen this shadowy-looking ass tried to take me out! Can you believe that? Haha…nobody takes the great ninja Yuffie down! Guy musta been kidding himself!"

Tifa wrapped an arm around Yuffie's back to support more of her weight, cautious of unseen injuries. "We can catch up on that in a little while. Let's get you cleaned up first..." She honestly doubted Yuffie knew how awfully beaten-up she looked, and not everything she was saying made much sense.

"Good idea…but first, I need some painkillers. I have a whopper of a headache!...Ugh…" Yuffie tenderly touched her bloated right cheek, and as she pulled her hand back, her face twisted into a confused grimace.

Tifa nearly toppled over their combined feet when she came to an abrupt stop. "Huh? What's the matter?"

Yuffie let go of her and limped a few feet away. "Tifa…I… I think something's wrong with me!" she yelped.

"Yuffie…no offense, but you're probably just a little punch drunk," Tifa explained, reaching for her again. Sure, they were all beyond well-accustomed to fighter's injuries, but just the right blow to the head could do funny things to a person's mood. Yuffie  _was_  acting rather silly.

"No, no, no. Tifa, look closer! Closer! Something's really not right…!" Yuffie demanded, swiping obsessively at her broken face.

Tifa caught her panicking hand and stopped her before she could make the wounds on her face any worse. Only then did she get a good look at what Yuffie was freaking out about. Her fingers were smeared not in blood, but in black sludge.

 


	17. Reunion

The pain was gone. She thought she was all better, but the doctors had pulled a thick, green curtain around her bed. Two scary-looking military men now guarded her, keeping their backs turned. They didn't budge. Marlene's imagination played games with her; she started to compare the enclosed space to being held prisoner in a cave, waiting to be eaten alive when the guards' demonic master returned.

"Where did you take Tifa?" she tried to ask them. "I want to see Tifa!" Marlene demanded when they didn't respond.

Her guards were solid, cold statues; they refused to answer her or even look at her. Both men clutched their guns closer to their chests, and if anything, tensed up when she talked to them. They were the same two who'd forced Tifa to leave when she lashed out at one of the older doctors. He had called her a "Remnant-equivalent risk". Marlene didn't understand what that meant, but he'd made Tifa so angry that she'd exploded in a flash. She'd never seen her hit anyone without being attacked first before. It usually took a lot more to make her that mad. Only Cloud had ever pulled that off, she sadly recalled.

"I doubt this is necessary, Doctor. Marlene is probably more confused and frightened by these developments than we are."

Marlene perked up. That sounded like Reeve's voice! She hoped he could convince them to take her out of this cave, and leave her alone…

"With all due respect, Tuesti, I don't think you comprehend the implications of the degree of infection we've observed in that girl. It's as though those Jenova cells have found a perfect host. Every blood cell in her body; every hair on her head has become just as dangerous and volatile as the substance she ingested!" the other man snapped back, causing Marlene to shudder. He certainly wasn't very nice.

"Open the curtain, Professor," a deeper voice ordered. "She's done nothing to provoke you into using this type of isolation."

The two sentinels relaxed, and then marched away from her. Marlene cowered for a second, afraid that they were going to hurt her or chase Reeve and Vincent away like they had with Tifa. But then, the curtain withdrew, taking the creepy shadow it had cast over her with it. She watched as the old doctor stalked away, not even the overgrowth of white hairs on his face hiding how red he was.

Vincent briefly glanced in her direction. He seemed like something had frightened him, too. As comforting as it was that he and Reeve had come to protect her, she hated it when all the grown-ups were scared. "I'll go find Tifa," he said, casting a side-long glare in the direction the elderly scientist had fled.

Crossing his arms, Reeve agreed, "Thank you, Vincent." Vincent nodded, and left as well. "...What in the world were Project S materials doing in the Deepground site…? Unless there was something new underway before..?" he muttered to himself.

Clinging to the bed's railing, Marlene sat on her knees and looked up at Reeve, questioning, "Reeve, what are 'S materials'?"

"Part of what's making you sick," Reeve answered uncertainly, still lost in thought.

What was he talking about? Couldn't he tell? "But I'm not sick anymore! I'm not! See?" Energetically, Marlene hopped up, twirling in a circle on the mattress, and flopping back down.

Careful to avert his eyes, Reeve reclined in the seat Tifa had been using a short while ago. "I know it doesn't feel like you are, but you should still take it easy, Marlene."

The girl pouted, "I don't need to! I don't want to lay around anymore! I need to be with Tifa and Eden."

After her outburst, Reeve rubbed at his face. His worried expression convinced her to back down. Was something bad still going to happen to her? Is that why everyone was so on edge? "Vincent's out looking for her now. Please, try to be calm."

A small, gentle tickling sensation crawled up the base of Marlene's spine, and she scooted back into her pillows. She felt suddenly lethargic, but her senses were magnificently amplified; she could see and hear everyone and everything in the complex. Reeve wasn't lying. Tifa was nearby, and Vincent was going to get her. But more than that, Eden had showed up as well.

And there was something pulling at her, calling; coaxing from the inside out…like a distant, removed pulse that had found its way into her ears and eyes. It belonged to her, yet it was foreign, and somehow far away. Marlene remembered then, that she was only pretending. Regardless of how anyone else was troubled; no matter how angry or confused they became because of her, she was not like them. Mother had drowned all of her fear, sadness, and worry in her will. The pain this little girl felt wasn't for real, only the person she used to be would know how to feel that type of emotional discomfort for humans. As the being she was now, she only wanted to go with Eden, and help bring him to Mother.

" _Marlene? Marlene, can you hear me?"_

Huddling in a ball, Marlene fought the urge to cry. She could feel how hard it had been for Eden to make it all the way to the lab. To do that, he had to know that she was here, and that Mother was locked away somewhere in this place. Eden was so weak, but because he'd found Mother last time, he had to return.

" _Marlene?"_

"He's found her!" Marlene exulted.

Reeve called out to her again, but she chose not to listen. She simply focused on how close Eden and Tifa were, and let her mind sink into the miry haze that was Reunion's beckoning. Eden would make her a part of it all. That's all that mattered.

"He's found her…they'll be one again, and we can all go…"

She barely felt it when Reeve gently pushed her to lie down and was hardly conscious of the nurse that came to inspect her. Her eyes were lost in a vision of swirling Lifestream, reverent to an illusory cascade of black feathers.

" _She's catatonic…I don't think we can waste any more time…"_

"…as one with…" Marlene gurgled in finishing, her hands stretching up into the air to touch what only she could see.

* * *

 

Vincent held onto Yuffie tightly while the three of them trudged their way to the W.R.O. lab's medical unit. Luckily, he'd emerged from below just in time to see the sorry state that she and Eden were in. Tifa carried the small boy, her heart caught in her throat. His breathing was shallow, and he was so miserably pale, even for his light complexion. She knew he was dying; chances were, he'd tried to make a break for it to come here and have Reunion. But he'd pushed himself way, way too hard in the process.

Outside the entrance to the clinic, Vincent stopped, and turned to Tifa. "You know what we have to do," he said apologetically.

Tifa frowned, watching the child in her arms struggle for his life. "Yeah, I know."

"Hey, stop it already! I'm not crippled!" Yuffie protested, pushing the door open for herself while prying Vincent's arm away. "…Sorry I can't be there, Tifa," she added.

"No, but you need to take care of yourself. I'll come by to see you and Marlene when…when I can." Tifa replied, hesitating. That could very well be when Eden had passed away.

As Yuffie stepped inside, Tifa heard Marlene talking and mumbling incoherently, and started to follow her.

"It's the Reunion Instinct," Vincent explained, stopping her with a hand on her shoulder. "She's not in any pain, but…she'll be joining us in the Stasis Center soon."

Tifa bit down hard on the inside of her lip and stepped back from the door. "Nothing I say or do makes a difference anymore, does it?" she quietly complained.

"Tifa, you did what you could. A lot of it was more than anyone else would have," he tried to console her.

But she didn't care what everyone else would have done. From the Meteor crisis up until now, most people didn't have a clue about what was really going on in the world around them. It always took something like a terrorist attack, Meteor _fall_ , or Geostigma to compel them to glance momentarily at what lay outside the walls of their homes and lives. Any chance for her to enjoy that kind of life had been ripped away back when Sephiroth had burned Nibelheim down. Ironically, living blissfully unaware had lost its charm. How could she hope to protect anyone if she knew nothing?

Tifa had experienced way too much not to take note of how broken the world really was, and in a sense, had been for the longest time. She'd made too many colossal mistakes not to try to make up for it somehow. For a little while, the good she'd tried to do had worked out. Even while their relationship had become difficult, she and Cloud had helped so many orphans that would have otherwise died in the streets. After the first Geostigma outbreak was over, they'd even managed to share small shred of normalcy. Then came Cloud's demise, and Eden entered her life.

After that, it seemed like anything she tried was turned on its head in one way or another. Even with all she knew, she'd been rendered impotent. Because she cared for Eden, Sephiroth had been able to enter her mind, and…

And there he was.

Smoky currents of his Lifestream coursed along the walls, and the normal flow of time and space came to a dead halt. Eden was no longer in her arms, and no one else was around. Only Sephiroth paced before her. This time, he'd chosen a less intimidating image, that of the SOLDIER legend the world had once known. Once upon a time, he might have passed as a decent human being.

"Don't deny that you and I desire the same end. If this world grieves you, Tifa," Sephiroth stalked closer and circled her before leaning in to whisper, as though he intended to share some critical secret, "why fight me?"

She came to only precious inches from running face-first into a wall. Various W.R.O members walked the halls again, and Eden was still asleep at her chest. Vincent gave her a curious look when her balance wavered, and she lightly touched the cool, stone surface to keep from continuing forward. Tifa's stomach was doing flip-flops, and she could feel the terrified stream of sweat trickle down her back.

"Sephiroth?" Vincent deduced.

Tifa flushed. How could she not feel humiliated by how easily her arch-nemesis walked in and out of her mind? "Was it that obvious?"

"It's not like you to have collisions with inanimate objects," Vincent said, quite seriously. "You weren't 'here'."

Upon their arrival at the Stasis Center's heavily guarded entrance, Tifa paused. Now that she thought about it, how was she not dangerous enough to warrant freezing? No, she didn't carry Jenova's cells, but that didn't stop Sephiroth from using her, did it? She never wanted to admit it, but this was not the first time he'd done something like this with her.

It was only once, and she never would have guessed he could do it again, especially not to such an extreme. Why would she want to tell the others when it would have only made matters worse at the time? Everyone was better off being allowed to think Sephiroth was playing a cruel game, which wasn't really inaccurate at all. Five years ago, in the Northern Crater's Whirlwind Maze, just before he manipulated Cloud into handing over the Black Materia…

" _Ha ha ha…Tifa, shall I show everyone what's in your heart?"_

An icy stab in the back of her mind had resounded with his words back then. He could do exactly as he had been threatening, if he really wanted to.

She  _was_  very dangerous, wasn't she? All it took were her uncertainties, her misgivings, and fears for her past and Cloud laid bare, and Sephiroth's link to her subconscious mind was secure. Eden was the perfect method for him to keep her psyche open; to obliterate any walls she constructed to keep him from coming in again.

Even in her deepest sleep, her subconscious mind would remain intact. Sephiroth could still use his connection to her to maintain his influence over Gaia's living for as long as he needed. Tifa strongly suspected that he'd done something similar with Cloud before he'd resurrected, to keep from being completely diffused into the Lifestream. After Aerith had cured the first outbreak, Cloud had once confessed to feeling preoccupied with him while he was sick, but she'd never thought too much of it until now. Later on, after his spirit had murdered Cloud, Sephiroth must have moved on to her, but he didn't need anyone's help in keeping his existence this time. Between the Omega incident and the Lifestream's current infection, Gaia couldn't move against him. Tifa wasn't sure of every detail, but she knew she'd unwillingly become more than just a tool to him-she was a weapon.

" _Why fight me?"_

She already loathed that question. The only reasons why anyone fought were because they were in denial of how irrevocably dismal conditions had grown, or because it was simply in their nature to keep fighting to the bitter death. She supposed she belonged to the latter group. Even if she was certain to lose her battle, cooperating with her tormenter would always feel intrinsically wrong.

Feeling thoroughly ill, Tifa silently followed Vincent inside, and released Eden into one of the glass holding cells. A small clamor of scientists drew her attention away from him for a moment, and she looked up to find that they were carting Marlene into an identical containment chamber nearby. Marlene wasn't crying out for help or panicking. She was entranced, and Tifa knew that if she got a closer look at her face, her eyes wouldn't be human. Shamefully, she couldn't bear to try.

Cloud…Rufus…Barret…Yuffie…Marlene…Eden…

One of those sterile holding cells would do nicely for her, Tifa thought as the list of victims' names scrolled through her mind's eye. If she asked the technicians here to imprison her, maybe it would stop Sephiroth from ruining everyone she touched. But realistically, it would only turn into an excuse to say she was truly powerless. There would still be a few people she loved, and Sephiroth could easily visit an ill fate upon any of them, with or without her help.

The only personal affliction she believed she had any right to bemoan was in circumstantial weakness. Sephiroth had indeed outsmarted and overpowered her. Tenderly touching the transparent glass of Eden's cell, Tifa turned away. Marlene needed her more now. Time was running out, and she needed to convince both herself and the girl that this would help her get better.

Less than two steps later, Tifa was face-down on the cold, metal lab floor, covering her head. The whole complex shook, assailed by violent tremors. This was no small earthquake. Overhead and on all sides, glass shattered while steel pipes groaned, hissed, and snapped apart from the machinery they connected. Computer consoles flickered on and off, their power supply broken and unstable.

Tifa recalled the quake that had plunged Mideel into the Lifestream, taking her and Cloud with it. That one had been just as strong. But this shouldn't be happening in the Midgar area! There weren't any major fault lines nearby-unless all of the old city's Mako reactors had actually done enough damage to weaken the crust? Tifa didn't know.

Finally, the shaking stopped. Holding her breath, Tifa struggled to her feet, taking in the chaos that had befallen the Stasis Center in awe. Fortunately, the glass she'd heard breaking was not from the holding cells. Both children were sitting perfectly still, safe and sound. They acted eerily as though they hadn't even noticed the massive tremor.

Meanwhile, Vincent was busy checking on a few wounded technicians, while others tried to pull themselves together enough to make sense of the debris. One younger intern techie limped his way to a half-battered screen, and nervously tapped a few keys. Several warnings and errors flashed across the monitor.

"Oh…shit…!" he murmured under his breath, his voice cracking either from youth or terror. "We're about to go into a full defrost-meltdown-we're so screwed…!"

Tifa stepped lightly in his direction, her pulse quickening at what she thought she heard him say. "What's that supposed to mean?! What will happen if the system fails?"

The kid looked at Tifa with disbelief, wiping at his sweat-coated forehead. "You have to be kidding me, lady. Reunion! The end! The W.R.O. built here because it was close and things like this were almost impossible. They thought of everything!"

"So, you're just going to stand there and let it happen?" Tifa barked at him, though she was angrier with herself.

She'd always had doubts about this place; doubts about the W.R.O.'s ability to keep it under control. But she chose to trust it, or rather, she'd chosen to trust the few friends she knew within the organization. As long as they were its leaders, everything should have been fine.

"Ah…um, no. No ma'am. It's, it's just that there are coolant leaks all over the place, and the equipment itself is running hot!"

Rubbing her temples, Tifa shook her head when the young man suddenly wandered away. That kid actually had to think about it before he realized that not an iota of his panic or shock was going to help stabilize or slow the situation! All of this was just too terrible, and beyond coincidence. Tifa was finished trying to negotiate with herself about how it would all turn around in the end. There was nothing she could do now but stand aside, do what she was told, and hope it didn't get any worse.

Forcing herself to peek over at Eden, she was stunned to see him completely awake, and rather healthy-looking. Tifa didn't like thinking about how, but in the past half hour, he'd recovered. Just being in closer proximity to his goal might have caused it. She could tell the kid was picking up on something, too. The boy was now standing, his hands pressed against the glass, staring up into the ceiling vents. Tifa's eyes followed his fixed gaze, searching for what he might find so fascinating.

She wouldn't have seen it if she wasn't looking so closely. Tiny, dark tendrils of corrupted Lifestream were creeping along the ceiling. Some of them appeared to be phasing through the walls. They looked a bit too much like her vision in the hallway.

"Tifa, what is it?" Vincent quietly inquired, leaving the injured to the medical staff that had come with Marlene.

"Can you see anything up there?" she replied, tracing the black, misty trails with her pointer finger.

Vincent focused in on where she was pointing. "No, there's nothing…Marlene and Eden should be safe in their cells. It's up to you whether or not you want to stay."

"They won't be for long if the containment system gives out. None of us will. I'll go wherever you guys need me," Tifa offered somberly.

"Go check on Yuffie and Reeve," Vincent decided. "I haven't heard anything from the medical wing since the earthquake."

* * *

 

Yuffie dove and fumbled to catch her shuriken as it spun back her way. She extended an arm to catch herself against a support beam, keeping her head from smashing into it instead.

"Oooh! This just doesn't work with one eye!" she complained, but jumped back into the fray, eager to try again. "Monsters in a clinic? What's the Planet coming to?"

Shortly after the quake, monsters had started invading the now- somewhat unsecured medical wing. They'd flooded in from every crevice; some had even tunneled their way in. Not a single beast was Geostigma-free. She, Reeve, and a few guards were the only ones there who could hold them back. When some managed to break through the guards or pierced the ceiling, they were the last line of defense for the patients. To their advantage, the malady weakened them, but just as Yuffie had witnessed in the wastes, they were incapable of reacting to physical pain. The only thing left rattling around in their dying brains was an urgent Reunion Instinct.

Reeve ducked behind a medicine cabinet for cover while he reloaded his pistol. "This was always easier from a distance," he griped.

Yuffie laughed at his petty misfortune. All of the W.R.O. leader's Cait Sith robots were safely stashed away in the Edge headquarters building, forcing the man to wield a weapon for himself. That being said, his aim wasn't exactly dreadful. It was clearly not the first time he'd been forced into using a gun.

"Keep it up, Reeve! They're thinning out, sort of…I think!" Yuffie urged both of them on.

A sharp, stabbing pain radiated out from the fresh wound and Geostigma rash on her right cheek, and Yuffie crouched down to keep her bearings. Flashes of dark, hallucinatory, aquamarine light polluted her vision, and she was pretty sure it was coming from inside of her head.

"Yuffie? Did one of them hit you?" Reeve asked, his eyes darting back and forth between her and his targets.

"No…I'm…I'm just great! Keeping shooting!" she replied, blinking rapidly to fight off the strange ocular interference. A monster snarled a little too close, making her scurry a few feet away from the sound.

It worked. Her eyesight returned, but it let Yuffie in on a far more ominous development. Black mist was crawling up the walls, spreading across the ceiling, and floating all around the monsters who kept trying to break in. Despite her drive to fight, she couldn't shake the thought and the sudden compulsion to touch it. The haze was coming out of nowhere; it seemed to bleed out from every flat surface in the clinic, and it really had to be hazardous to anyone's health, but...she just wanted so badly to check it out! It felt like an intense craving, magnified a million times.

Yuffie clung to her weapon as a lifeline and coaxed herself to stay occupied with attacking the monsters. She knew what she was experiencing, but there was no way she was just going to cave in to Reunion's call like that! Even…even if it was so, so tempting. Jenova's pull threatened to erase her ability to reason, but Yuffie did all she could to hold on. This was one craving that that she was supposed to resist without exception and had no questions as to why. Solid, reliable facts: They should keep her in her right mind for at least a little while longer…

"Here, too…Why are you doing it like this?" a voice muttered from behind.

Tifa had arrived, and was standing in the doorway, perplexed and mumbling. Yuffie didn't want to think of what might have transpired in the Stasis Center. What they were dealing with here was bad enough. "Well, the big idea is to keep the monsters  _out…_ " she started to explain, but then noticed that Tifa was wearing her gloves."But I don't know what to do about all the weird smoky crap…"

With clenched fists and her lips pursed in a tight grimace, Tifa stepped determinedly toward the struggling, writhing gang of monsters that was attempting to squeeze through the tiny medical entrance. There were instances that Yuffie had come to appreciate as good times to stand down and shut the hell up. When Tifa looked like  _that_ , it was one of them. The woman was at her wits' end and was probably ready to tear those creatures limb from limb with her bare hands.

A small, mildly sadistic part of her was thrilled to see Tifa like this. Cloud's swords were back at the bar, meaning Tifa would have to do it her way now. The time for her to honor and mourn Cloud's memory in her fighting was well past over, in Yuffie's opinion. Not that there was any harm in knowing both, but the woman had risked life and limb over her preference for training with First Tsurugi one too many times, and all while she could easily rip her foes apart in two moves without them.

Yuffie held back on her attacks, and onto her breath. Reeve kept his gun trained on the exit but ceased firing.

"This…this is how it starts, isn't it?" Tifa slowly pronounced, talking to no one. "Your Reunion..."

Her facial wound throbbed in the affirmative, and Yuffie was too ashamed to answer. Still in his hiding place, Reeve bowed his head and sighed heavily. As the head of the W.R.O., he'd been the one to authorize this entire containment project. She didn't envy the kind of regret he had to be carrying on his shoulders. Still, both she and Vincent were active members. Yes, they'd voiced their reservations and insisted on a whole world of contingencies, but in hindsight, the whole damned thing was foolish. They should have just refused…

Tifa dashed forwar, and began to fight. She had suffered the most; others had paid for the stasis project with their lives. One by one, the Geostigma-ridden animals and monsters fell, skulls crushed, necks and spines snapped, ribs broken and lungs punctured. A shrill cry sounded from the raging woman, but it was not a brawler's call; it was a tortured, despairing scream.

Yuffie felt a chilly, numbing sensation growing inside of her body and mind. Behind that icy veil, she could still feel her normal desire to comfort Tifa there; to apologize profusely for everything that had happened to her. But at the forefront of her consciousness, there was only a thick fog, fed by the black mist hovering in the room.

As the last beast dropped, Tifa collapsed and wept, "Can't anyone else see? He's here…he's here…!"

 


	18. Of Allies and Puppets

Desecrated; filthy: Tifa Lockhart was beyond redemption. A slimy, viscous film of blood, fur, entrails, and black puss dripped from her hands, soaking through even her moisture-resistant leather gloves. Her face was sticky and wet from crying, a feeling that was starting to become more familiar than when she hadn't been.

She'd succeeded in stopping the onslaught of monsters, but the dark, negative Lifestream flows still seeping into the compound told her that she hadn't changed a damned thing. Her friends stood silently at attention, just as they had when she'd fallen, begging for someone to tell her that she wasn't the only one who could hear and see Sephiroth in their midst. At best, her enraged, lackluster heroism had bought the staff and patients some time-time that she was certain wouldn't do much but prolong their suffering. He could summon another stampede of creatures to pick away at their already weakened numbers at any time.

Stiff and pained, Tifa stood back up. With the medical unit all clear for the time being, she needed to get back to Marlene and Eden. As impervious as their cells appeared to be, concurrent disasters had left the children mostly unguarded. No matter how helpless she knew she really was, nothing could convince her to forfeit her guardianship over them. Sadly, it was fast turning into a matter of soothing her burning conscience above all else. If Marlene worsened or died, she wouldn't let it be because she'd failed to stand guard over her. If Eden escaped into the coalescence of Reunion, it wouldn't be because she didn't try to stop him.

" _And when your objectives fail, Tifa?"_

Tifa hugged herself. Of course  _he_  would be the first to speak to her in this shaken state. "I'll fight, even if it's impossible to win," she answered the voice condescendingly purring in her mind. She didn't care that she looked like a madwoman holding a conversation with a figment of her imagination. Trying to maintain her dignity was worthless.

As expected, Reeve was looking at her like she'd finally snapped. Nurses and physicians furrowed their brows and slowly turned their backs, busying themselves with herding the few patients left away from the bloody scene, and isolating the pile of monster carcasses as a biohazard. Tifa supposed that sharing a telepathic relationship with a thrice-deceased, genocidal maniac wasn't a far cry from insanity after all.

He hung his head, and clasped his hands as he approached her, "This isn't your fight, Tifa. I supported the construction of the lab, I was the one who singled you out to care for Eden…and, I'm also the one most responsible for allowing him to become a threat."

"No, Reeve. No," Tifa remorsefully declined his apology, "I could have stopped this from happening so many times. You didn't live with Eden; you didn't get the same warnings. Sephiroth...He chose me…"

"I don't know exactly what you can see that we can't, but I have an idea. That choice wasn't yours," Reeve insisted. Her heart ached for the child-like fear that crossed his face when she told him. But perhaps it was best to instill doubt in the kind man's heart; let him consider how untrustworthy she'd become.

" _Ah, but it was."_

Tifa moved past Reeve before she answered, too ashamed to look him in the eye. "Maybe not at first," she bitterly accepted.

It was the worst kind of irony. She was only in this position because she'd voluntarily and repeatedly ignored Eden's true nature. When all the answers were wrong, she'd chosen the path of least resistance; the one that was now playing directly into Sephiroth's hands. And she'd continued to do so, even when he'd started speaking to her. What she'd done was something like submission in denial. Were her friends looking to her to play Cloud's part this time? Tifa knew she couldn't do it. She felt completely hopeless and was simply persevering in the name of survival.

Sephiroth was right. She had, in fact, already chosen, and very much to her own damnation. The bastard had cornered her when she was vulnerable and grieving and used her compassion to make her work toward his ends. Ends that he'd subtly offered to share with her as some kind of twisted, perverse compensation. The best she had left to give was stubborn, nigh passive- aggressive resistance. Tifa was left ensnared and struggling against the consequences.

"Sephiroth is already here, Reeve. If we make one more wrong move…" she desperately warned, peeking back at him.

Too much had happened at once for it all to be some mere freak of nature. No, this was a strategically planned and coordinated attack by one who'd had plenty of experience in doing so. Tifa had the sickening notion that what Sephiroth was trying to accomplish surpassed idle revenge; the nagging suspicion that he was after much more than simply Gaia's spirit energy. Eden had always been a little too willing to use Marlene as a sounding board to drop little hints for her discovery. Both the child and the man seemed intent on ensuring that she witnessed everything they did. It was enough to make her wish she'd been someone else.

"I believe you, Tifa," Reeve somberly reassured her, turning in a circle to inspect the damage the clinic had suffered. "…Did you see where Yuffie went?"

* * *

 

What did she think she was doing? Her feet marched down the corridor to the Stasis Center without her permission. A tiny voice in the back of her head begged and pleaded for her to turn around; to resist the impulse that had influenced her to sneak out of the medical unit in the first place.

Yuffie growled, exasperated, and kept going. Following this urge was nowhere near as unpleasant as having her brain doused in imaginary ice water! Frustrated, she tried to recall what she'd been doing in the clinic that was so important. The last thing she could remember was slipping out of there  _stealthily._ She wouldn't do that just for fun. She snickered at the thought, because she actually would, but not in this kind of mess. Lazily, she smothered the concern by dipping the tips of her fingers in the black fog rising and falling along the walls.

Someone needed to see to Tifa's kids at the other end of the lab. That's why she was headed that way, she decided. The complex was all but falling apart. How could she even think to leave them alone in those itty- bitty, claustrophobia-inducing holding cells, where they had nowhere to run or hide?

Tifa knew that angry adults horrified Eden. What else could he think but that he was in all kinds of trouble after being abandoned in the wake of a disaster like this? How could she do this to him? The poor little guy was probably scared senseless that they didn't love him anymore and had decided to use him as a lab rat for his punishment.

Gritting her teeth, Yuffie seethed. She walked faster and faster, until she broke into a full jog. The quicker she reached Marlene and Eden, the better. To her benefit, most of the ID checkpoints were malfunctioning. She'd only had to trash one or two of them. Sure, she had her card, but she didn't have the time or patience to bother with rules and procedures.

Besides, the streams coursing along the walls and ceiling weren't slowing down, and she needed to keep up. Just the thought of falling behind them unnerved her. The closer she stayed, the less her face felt like half of it was trying to fall off. Bizarre cravings and urges aside, wasn't a little relief reason enough?

And why  _had_  she been so dead set against coming into contact with the soothing mist? Yuffie wracked her memory but couldn't come up with anything substantial. Catastrophic circumstances could mess with a person's ability to think rationally. She figured that she was too hyped up on adrenaline to make the right call at first.

" _You dimwit! Only ten minutes ago, you knew you had to ignore this! Come on, stop following it! Yuffie, stop!"_

Sprinting further along, she slapped her good cheek to silence her agitating inner voice. Yuffie had always relied on her gut, her instincts, to determine what she needed to do next in her intelligence-gathering exploits for the W.R.O. Rarely had she ever been wrong. So what if her methods were occasionally sloppy and unnecessarily uncouth? Reeve still called on her for the most important cases. This wasn't any different. While some freaked out, frightened part of her mind protested her choice, her intuition was vehemently insisting that this was an absolute must. She needed to get to those kids! What if one of the monsters had slipped past everyone while they were too busy watching Tifa cream the rest of them?

A small sigh of relief escaped Yuffie's mouth. She wasn't just randomly forgetting everything! Yes, there had been that awful monster attack…But she still drew a blank for what happened after that.

" _What about Vincent? Do you really think that Tifa would just up and leave them? He's probably in there with them!"_

"Hah! Fat chance. Knowing him, he's probably trying to run the place all by himself! Give me a break…a little gooey leakage isn't going to make the place blow up!" she argued with herself.

" _Dangerous, evil gooey leakage…"_

"Please, unless that stuff is all over the place, Master Yuffie's got nothing to worry about!"

Incidentally, Vincent was right where she was certain he wouldn't be, in the observation room with the holding cells, Yuffie discovered upon barging in. But he was doing almost exactly what she'd pictured him doing, running around like a headless chocobo trying to monitor a bunch of computer readings alone. Eden and Marlene both looked almost like they were sleepwalking in their cells, but they were unharmed.

A thick, murky cloud of corroded Lifestream settled over the top of Eden's cell, and he broke from his sleepy trance to smile at Yuffie. For some reason she couldn't pinpoint, she shuddered. A splinter of a bleak, fearful thought was trying to claw its way out of her subconscious, but she pushed it back. Eden was definitely an eccentric kid and an expert in the trouble-making arts, but he'd certainly never done anything to inspire the kind of gut-wrenching terror she was on the verge of experiencing.

But at last, that anxious, prodding voice in the back of her head had faded out. Yuffie grinned back at Eden, instantly switching over to a curiously upbeat mood. It was time for her to take charge of this situation!

"Hey, Vincent! Why are you in here alone? Where's everyone else?" she asked him but was slightly taken aback by how frantic her voice came out. It exuded none of the confidence she was truly feeling. She sounded like she was freaking out.

The man did a sharp about-face, nearly startled out of his skin. "Yuffie…they're in the cooling sector. Jenova's Stasis was heavily compromised by the earthquake. What about Reeve and Tifa?"

Yuffie released an involuntary whimper, "I had to hurry here because of them! They're in trouble! Monsters are attacking the clinic, but this thing on my face is making me feel like crap. They need help, Vincent, but I can't!"

She was lying, but it wasn't premeditated. Her words and the matching emotions simply burst forth of their own volition. When she spoke them, Yuffie almost fooled herself; she sounded so earnest and remorseful for not being able-bodied enough to help. Yet, she was still perfectly aware of the fact that she'd done a great deal to stem the onrush of monsters before Tifa had shown up. What happened after the fighting was still too hazy for her recollection, but in the surrounding turmoil, who could blame her?

"Stay here, Yuffie. I'll go help Tifa and Reeve," Vincent said.

Naturally, he believed her. Sure, she'd told more than her fair share of not-so-little white lies when she was younger to swindle unsuspecting victims out of their materia, but even back then, she'd known to tone it back when the stakes were  _this_ high. Right now, she had nothing to gain from deceiving or sending Vincent on a wild goose chase.

But she happily agreed, "Thanks, Vincent."

As the tall gunslinger departed, Yuffie suddenly questioned what was making the stakes so high this time. The answers were obviously all around her, in the cacophonous cry of warning alarms, and in the anguished moans of the sick. Still, mysteriously, trying to figure it out was like burying her face in an opaque, thin cloth. The sense that things had gotten horrifically serious lingered, but she couldn't seem to catch a glimpse of how or why.

Turning her attention to the hypnotic, swirling energy streams hovering over Eden's cell, the last of her worries melted away, forgotten. Yuffie softly padded to stand before the glass container, and simply stared at Eden. The boy's cyan eyes gazed back unflinchingly, deepening her stupor. A moment ago, she'd been confused, debating what had gone awry with her memory to make it so slippery. Now, she was hollow. There remained in her no impetus to plan, fight, or question; only a sort of sad blankness.

Again, how could anyone stand to lock this beautiful child away in that small, boring cell? Transfixed, Yuffie watched as her hand rose to punch in the numbers of the pass code that would unseal the door. The sequence was long, but somehow, her fingers moved deftly across the number pad, as though she'd used that code every day for the past year.

A click and a hiss later, Eden was free to leave.

Seemingly timorous, he walked out and set his sights on Marlene's prison. "I want her with me. I promised," he quietly commanded.

"Okay, Eden," Yuffie half-whispered, and proceeded to release the girl as well.

"Bring Tifa here; she needs to see me."

" _Bring Tifa here; she needs to see me."_

Numbly, Yuffie exited the observation room, the child's strongly spoken orders the only thought echoing in her mind. She dared not defy him. After all he'd been through, he deserved to have Tifa by his side if that's what he wanted.

* * *

 

"Mother…I am here. Show me where you are," Eden softly called out, lovingly; reverently. "Come with me, Marlene. It's time."

Gently, he grasped Marlene's hand, and pulled the girl along. She staggered limply in their first few steps, but quickly corrected her pace to keep up with him more gracefully. Every nerve in his body was tingling for anticipation and Mother's nearness. She was not only stowed away in the complex machinery; his adoptive sister had become a special vessel. All around him, Gaia was bleeding to hail his Reunion, and delicate trails of Sephiroth's spirit energy possessed every chamber of this hidden place.

Moving quietly into the hallway, Eden was pleased to find it empty. Anyone who worked here was occupied, trying in vain to fix the irreparable damage to the prison the humans had built for Mother. Oh, but they could never contain something that much greater than themselves. Unknowingly, they'd made retrieving enough of her essence for the Reunion so much easier just by trying. The creatures of this Planet were playing their rightful part, dancing obediently on the strings of the god who would consume their very souls.

"Eden, what if someone sees us?" Marlene hesitated. "They'll just make us go back," she meekly protested.

"No, they won't. They can't. Trust me." Eden squeezed his sister's hand as they crept onward.

Then, as if to mock his claims, a large, burly W.R.O. soldier jogged by, and Marlene shrieked, plucking her hand from Eden's, and clung to the wall. She pressed herself against the brick surface as though she wished only to meld with it; anything for a safe place to hide. But the intimidating figure never stopped for them. He didn't even look at them. Carefully, Eden pried her away from the wall.

"Marlene, no one will see us unless I want them to."

"… _.unless I want them to."_

Submissively, Marlene joined hands with Eden once more. He enjoyed the small tremor in her fingertips. After so long, she reacted to him correctly: loyal, awestruck, and ever so slightly afraid. She had abandoned her worthless memories and attachments for the sake of perfect fidelity. In exchange, Mother had eased the agony that being human had previously inflicted upon her. Her ultimate reward was soon to come. She would join with him in his Reunion as a friend, free of the precursory torment Geostigma guaranteed to all others.

Marlene was going to take part in the Reunion, not of force, but of choice. Just as Tifa was  _his_  chosen, Marlene was privileged. Someday, Lockhart would come to appreciate the favor, and thank him for showing such a deep degree of mercy to her child.

Travelling closer to the heart of the facility, the corridor grew shadier, partially from the corroded Lifestream, and partly from actual smoke. Eden sped into the choking haze. A fire burned where the hall turned, ignited by sparks that had showered down from the wiring overhead. And along the base of the wall, a long pipe ran, receiving heat from the blaze-heat that traversed the length of the tube, and entered into Jenova's containment.

The primary stasis chamber was located at the center of the compound, and every path intersected with it. Inside, distressed scientists and technicians labored to piece the fractured machinery back together. As of yet, they were unaware of a severe breach in one of the external vacuum lines. But Eden knew. The second he and Marlene had made it through the smoke, he could sense it.

Only dim, red emergency lights illuminated the remaining length of the hall. A few scraps of debris felled by the earthquake provided the only obstacles, which the children climbed over with little difficulty. Between the strewn chunks and pieces they ran, blocking out all sight and sound that wasn't part of Mother's call, the one that spoke to the very essence of their beings, urging them to come and be one. Marlene and Eden's goal was in sight now; at the end of their trek was a mixed puddle of black slime and coolant.

* * *

 

Vincent arrived at the clinic with Cerberus loaded. He listened closely for snarls, gunshots; any ruckus that might indicate where the monster assault that Yuffie had begged him to help eliminate was transpiring. He had plenty of faith in Tifa, Reeve, and the guards to be able to hold it off, but as severe as she'd made it sound, he was expecting to walk into something of a struggle. Much like the rest of the W.R.O. lab complex, the place had sustained heavy damage in the earthquake. If monsters wanted in, the doors were basically open. Curiously, there had been no aftershocks as of yet, but when they hit, this wouldn't be a safe place.

Disabled as Yuffie was, Vincent had second thoughts about leaving her to fend for herself, but the observation room was nowhere near as damaged or unstable as the clinic. Moreover, keeping watch over the Stasis System's failure was useless. It was no longer a matter of if, but when it would happen. Jenova's collective remains were melting, while those that were pending freezing for research and classification had already been reported to him as "exploding out of test tubes without stimulus". Immediately after the tremor, amid the confusion, only a small group of technicians and junior researchers weren't too disoriented to see that any unfrozen biomaterials needed to be locked down. If not for their fast thinking, the situation on the other side would likely be deteriorating much quicker.

Upon entering the compound's small triage area, Vincent saw that there had, in fact, been a vicious monster invasion. The staff had already taken great care to cordon off the remains, and there were no shocked and ailing patients to gawk at the sight. They'd done their job efficiently. Only Reeve and Tifa were left in the room. One look at Tifa told him who'd taken care of most of the problem. In some small corner of his mind, he hoped that killing them had been therapeutic for her but rejected the thought in sad disgust. It would never be that easy. Tifa was only doing as she felt she must, and by his asking. She appeared just as despondent as she had an hour ago; just as trapped and lost. Although cleaner, Reeve was also quite shaken up. His normally well-pressed and cleaned blue coat and slacks were thoroughly wrinkled and dirty. He still clutched his pistol tightly in his right hand with the safety turned off.

"Vincent, I've decided to end this project," Reeve announced when he saw him. "I can only hope it's not too late for the Planet."

Tifa remained still and sullen, offering no opinion where she usually would. A closer glance revealed that she was trembling almost imperceptibly, her composure worn down to a thread. Vincent decided not to bother her. "What are we going to do about the Stasis System? I doubt it can be fixed."

"I'm assuming that it can't be. Unfortunately, the only option left to us in this case takes a page right out of ShinRa's book," Reeve answered. "…I truly never believed it would come to this."

"Come to what?" Tifa spoke up in a soft, sour murmur. She didn't appear to understand what terminating the project would have to entail at this point.

"Incineration. We'll evacuate, and then the W.R.O. will drop a Mako bomb on the lab. The staff working on the Stasis System will set charges to reinforce the explosion," Vincent explained. "Nothing should survive. There won't be any evidence that the lab ever existed."

Tifa's face softened considerably. "That means no Reunion…"

Her face twisted into a puzzled expression next. Vincent inferred that she was listening, expecting to "hear" Sephiroth add his mocking commentary to their plans. Tifa looked around and rolled her eyes but shook her head afterward.

"No news?" he asked her.

"Nothing," she affirmed, "but something feels…really off. It's like when someone's following you, but you can't seem to catch them doing it. He's still here, Vincent."

He had suspected as much, and not simply because Sephiroth had fixated on Tifa. The air smelled strongly of Mako in spite of the fact that its use was strictly limited by law, and that none of it was permitted on the lab grounds. Aside from the W.R.O's Planet-protective stance, Mako energy and Jenova's cells were too highly reactive to one another to bring in close proximity. The exception was in the bomb they intended to use, and it was only allowed because the heat of the blast would consume anything considered alive before a reaction could happen. But he knew that only Tifa, Eden, and Geostigma patients could see what was causing the awful stench. Tifa had tried to call his attention to it earlier. Corroded Lifestream was infiltrating the lab through the vents.

It was the same dusky, ominous substance that Sephiroth had summoned with the clouds over Midgar when Cloud had fought him. Perhaps it remained phased out now because Sephiroth lacked a physical existence? But like him, it was obviously present and wreaking havoc with anyone and anything that came in contact with it.

"The intercom is down," Reeve informed them after toying with some buttons near hallway exit. "We'll have to spread the word."

Vincent quietly groaned, "To as many as we can. Yuffie is with the kids."

"I'll let them know," Tifa volunteered, and didn't wait to hear anymore.

Watching Tifa run out, Vincent felt almost as nauseous as he had when Rosso the Crimson had ripped the Protomateria from his chest. That only fell second to when Lucrecia had offered herself to the Jenova Project. Near death and personal affairs notwithstanding, it generally meant that someone had just made a huge error in judgment. For the first time in his unnatural life, Vincent regretted that Chaos had returned to the Planet, because that was the type of empowerment he'd need to make any kind of difference.

The one person who was consciously aware of Sephiroth who was neither sick nor Remnant was ill-prepared to face him down. So thoroughly adapted she was to her role as Eden's guardian, Tifa acted in his interest first and foremost, sometimes with little regard for the costs. Confused and worn down, she instinctively fell back on protecting her children, intentionally forgetting for the time being that they were a serious source of danger.

There couldn't be a worse time for her to do that.

 


	19. Legend Shall Speak

The man leered down at her, obstructing her path again with his great wing outstretched. Tifa lowered herself to the floor and waited for him to disappear. Sephiroth wasn't really there, but in her mind. Or, he was everywhere at once, until he reformed into his corporeal self. Then, he might stand, and cut, and ruin. He seemed omnipresent, a trait typically ascribed to divine creatures, and to a lesser extent, the Ancients. Tifa believed in the life of Gaia and had met and befriended the latter, but she'd never been sure what to think about the existence of gods. Encountering Sephiroth like this gave her the worst possible reasons to shed her doubts.

"Do you still pretend to act on your own, Tifa?" he questioned, using a much gentler tone than she was accustomed to hearing from him; the kind of serious, conciliatory timbre often used for children in the wake of discipline.

Hide. She wanted to be invisible to him. Tifa wanted to believe that she could discover a place in her mind or the known universe where he wouldn't eventually find her. "'I have no will left.' Is that what you want me to say?"

"Hm. Hardly. You are more than a puppet. You act as you do without my guidance, because you have already accepted that I am the one who dictates how this will end."

Tifa wished she could believe she'd gone insane. Time was running out on the Stasis System meltdown, and here she was, sitting in the middle of a busy hall, conversing with an illusion she was convinced had altered time and space! Wisps of corrupted Lifestream wove between him and the corona behind him, and the ground trembled. The aftershock decimated any doubt that he had triggered the earthquake. Gaia's normal inner geographical workings had nothing to do with it.

For that, Tifa had a mind-numbing epiphany. Sephiroth, for all his eccentricity and cruelty, was not entirely mad. He really was quite capable of accomplishing all of his endeavors. Given his power, the man harbored no unrealistic plans, no delusions of grandeur; only twisted and vengeful ambitions. In that new light, Sephiroth was suddenly much more dangerous than he'd ever been. Everything that had been coming to fruition in the past months was part of an intricate, logical, thought-out plan, one that he'd tailored specifically to avoid past mistakes.

Yet, one question remained that she couldn't figure out—"Why haven't you killed me?"

A quiet, sardonic chuckle rose from low in Sephiroth's throat, as if he thought it was the silliest, most naïve question he'd ever heard. "Why haven't you killed 'Eden'?" he responded in kind.

"He's just a kid. I wanted to help him live a normal life…" Tifa confessed. Why shouldn't she? Sephiroth already had the upper hand. Revealing her motives would neither hinder nor help her at this point.

"What you wanted was to perfect a being lower than yourself, but higher than others of its kind. What I intend for you, Tifa, is no different."

Tifa cringed. She couldn't tell him he was wrong. The spirit behind his comparison was perverse, but the indictment itself wasn't too far off. Warped truths were Sephiroth's specialty, she recalled. Where the puppet strings were either too loose or nonexistent, Sephiroth resorted to preying upon his victims' perception of reality. Even worse, Tifa pondered, was the possibility that he could alter that reality.

"No. No, that's not it," Tifa started, brazenly staring down the man's semi-deified form. "You just want to be able to say that you won; that you turned one of Cloud's friends against him and the Planet! It's just not enough for you that he's dead, is it?"

Sephiroth remained calm and collected, infuriating her, "And you believe that differs from turning your enemy's Remnant into your dependent? Vengeance takes on many forms, Tifa." His voice turned cold and quieter still, barely masking the seething anger in his last few words.

Incensed, Tifa sprang to her feet, ready with a sharp retort about the obvious disparity between real justice and his flavor of manipulative sadism, but he was gone. The vision had ended, and the workers rushing up and down the hallways reminded her that she also had somewhere to be, and fast. As her head cleared, she broke into a slow jog, gentle on muscles she'd strained while fighting the monsters.

What was she supposed to do with Eden now? His abrupt, unexpected recovery meant that letting him die of Reunion deprivation was easier said than done. But then again, once everyone evacuated the lab, the W.R.O. was going to obliterate it and all of its vile contents. With nothing concentrated left of Jenova aside from whatever Geostigma victims carried, his demise was almost a certainty. Let Sephiroth play his mind games, she decided. In the end, that's all he'd ever have.

Closing in on the Stasis Center's observation room, Tifa stepped aside to avert a panicky, careening Yuffie. The woman was flushed and sweaty. She was bouncing off the walls as usual, but not quite like herself. As she babbled strings of incoherent words together, Tifa rested her hands on her shoulders to pacify her and keep her from vibrating out of place. At the moment, she suspected the young ninja could easily be a prime candidate for a study of the effects of caffeine on Geostigma patients.

"Hey, calm down!" Tifa told her, and the girl obediently stopped speaking. But she still drew sharp breaths, panting, wringing her hands, and wiggling her feet. "What's going on?"

Studying her worriedly, Tifa noticed how swollen and blistered the infected half of Yuffie's face had become. She saw how difficult it was for her to focus her eyes; how they swam lazily in her head.

"Eden needs you," Yuffie slurred, slumping down onto one of Tifa's arms.

She hung there for several seconds before forcing her legs to work again and stood up straight. Composed, Yuffie regained her footing as though her near-collapse hadn't happened. Tifa wondered if maybe it hadn't. Fearful visions and hallucinations pervaded her mind; the line between reality and nightmarish fantasy was barely discernible anymore. Did it still exist?

"I'm on my way to get the kids now, Yuffie. Are you okay?" Tifa asked.

No, Yuffie was clearly not "okay", but she needed to be able to hold on just a little while longer. Once the W.R.O. dealt with their lab, she could become as weak and sickly as she needed to be.

Yuffie shook her head uncertainly and poked at her ears with her pinky fingers. "My head feels kind of weird," she admitted. "But let's get going, Tifa. They're scared out of their minds!"

Geostigma was getting to her, Tifa surmised, following along. Entering the observation room, she paused. The children weren't here, and their cells were open, but fully intact. Someone must have been foolish enough to release them, or more likely, Eden had managed to do something-either him or Sephiroth. He'd proven time and again that his lack of a physical state wasn't an obstacle.

"Oh, Vincent, Yuffie…Why couldn't one of you wait with them?" Tifa uttered, struggling to unfreeze her body from its momentary shock.

Was it impossible to lock Eden down effectively? There was always some interruption; some so-called coincidence or accident that let Eden do as he wished.

"What about you, Tifa?" Yuffie sourly grumbled, pouting. "You should have stayed."

Tifa's heartbeat practically slowed to a stop as realization dawned upon her. But she chose to play ignorant, to allow Yuffie's developing madness to rear its ugly head if she really was the culprit behind the kids' premature freedom.

"You and Reeve needed help, remember?" Tifa replied.

Yuffie's eyes crossed, glaring accusingly at one another. "We…huh?"

The memory was still somewhere in her head. Tifa watched her face contort as it struggled to emerge from her subconscious. "After the earthquake," she persisted, hoping to help her draw it out.

"I…it…Look, I really don't know, alright?" Yuffie snapped, unable to try any harder. "Can't we just go find them before I turn into a zombie?!"

Her acknowledgment was all Tifa needed for the time being. The younger woman was still clinging to her sanity. She was still willing and able to see that her lapses in conscious recollection and reason were because of her illness. Did it really matter how they'd escaped? Knowing how they got out was far less pressing than tracking them down and dragging them out before the place went up in flames.

Silently, Tifa made up her mind that Marlene was more important. If they couldn't find him, or if he refused to come along, she'd leave Eden here. The Mako bomb would ensure that his death was swift and painless. He'd never see it coming or going.

"…Yeah. Any idea where they'd go?" Tifa asked.

"Eden only wants to be whole," she responded dreamily, sending chills coursing up Tifa's spine. "…The Stasis System?"

"I was afraid you'd say that. Yuffie…maybe you should stay here. You're not looking too good. You might hurt yourself."

"Are you kidding? There's no way I'm letting you go alone! This place has gone nuts!" Yuffie countered, brandishing her shuriken.

Unwilling to hear another word, she dashed ahead, and Tifa trotted after her, exiting through the opposing door, which led into the lab proper. After doing a half-circle around the Stasis System, they turned a corner, and there the kids were, mesmerized by something on the ceiling. Tifa wasted no time to second-guess what or why. Shoving Yuffie out of her way, she bolted forth, gathering Eden barely soon enough to keep him from wading into a small, gelatinous pool that had formed from a leaking pipe overhead.

Eden released a strangled wail and fell limp and heavy in her arms, his strength leaving him just as miraculously as it had returned. As she settled the boy against the wall to inspect him, a thick, soupy splash sounded from behind her. Looking back, she saw that Marlene was sitting in the puddle. When it touched her, the mire reanimated, slithering up onto her bare arms and legs, sinking into her skin. Yuffie didn't interfere; she simply stared, engrossed in the sponge-like effect Marlene had on the waste.

"Marlene, no!" Tifa protested and jumped back to get her.

Kneeling down to pull Marlene from the ooze, Tifa froze in place when she felt a sharp, metallic point pressed lightly to the back of her neck. She mustered the gall to let one arm reach for the girl, but her movement only further provoked her assailant. The pointed edge pressed down harder, slightly breaking the skin. A tiny, warm drop trickled down her neck, and disappeared beneath Tifa's top.

Heart racing, Tifa forced herself to say something. "Yuffie, what are you doing?" she breathed. She tried ducking a little lower, but the shuriken's point remained steadily trained on her neck.

"All Eden wants is to be with his Mother! What the hell is wrong with  _you?_  It's like you don't even care about him anymore!" Yuffie cried.

Tifa grieved the sincerity in her friend's voice. Yuffie genuinely believed that what she was doing was right. But her irrational words could only mean one thing: Geostigma had degraded her conscious self, replacing it with a false front. She was no longer herself; invisible strings had attached to her emotions, her thoughts, and her actions.

Yuffie had become one of Jenova's puppets; Sephiroth's plaything.

"I do care for him, Yuffie. And I care for you too. You know what's doing this, but you're not thinking straight," Tifa answered, composed as she could be with a close ally threatening her life.

Hopefully, there was a tiny shred of the person she used to be left in her shell that would be willing to heed her words.

"Ugh! Cut the crap, Tifa! You're too worried about yourself to give a little kid what he  _needs_!" Yuffie growled, deriding her. "How could you do that?"

"I'm sorry," Tifa exhaled.

Yuffie was giving her no choice. Quicker than the deranged girl could react, in a single motion, Tifa rolled out from under her weapon's point, and rose to her feet. Enraged, Yuffie pounced, but met with a solid kick to her gut, causing her to stumble back a few steps. Standing her ground afterward, she assumed a defensive stance.

The woman's brief hesitation gave Tifa a few precious seconds to extract Marlene from the puddle, although she'd already fallen unconscious. Tifa panicked inwardly when she saw the girl wasn't awake. It was like finding her infected all over again, but this time, she couldn't help her right away. Not as long as Yuffie intended on picking a fight.

" _Show me who you choose, Tifa."_

"All of them!" Tifa exclaimed, losing her temper.

"Look at you. You can't even stop arguing with yourself! Weirdo! " Yuffie accused, and sent her shuriken spinning toward Tifa for the first strike.

Unprepared to counterattack, Tifa hit the floor, dodging the weapon as it spun back to its owner. "Yuffie, stop it, please," she begged, but got nothing in reply.

When Yuffie failed to deliver a swift second attack, Tifa glanced up. Long, concentrated tendrils of corrupted Lifestream were weaving around Yuffie's neck, torso, and limbs. They wormed their way into her eyes and ears and crowned her head in lacy darkness. Her bloodshot eyes glowed with something akin to a Mako glare, but slightly dimmer. The White Rose of Wutai was wilted and possessed. In her, Geostigma manifested a new persona.

Unholy energy fused with Yuffie's shuriken, and it blazed with dark, violet flames. Leaping up, Tifa wiped her mind clean of all consequential thought, and closed in on her with a flurry of rapid-fire punches. All that counted now was making it out of here alive with the kids. She could torture herself later with ruminations of how she might have resolved the conflict differently, because this instant wasn't offering her very many options.

She needed to fight, and win—even if that meant taking down a close friend.

Startlingly, the very unhealthy Yuffie blocked most of her blows, all while dealing her a few short gashes. Tifa hissed at the stinging pain sprouting from the cuts in her arms and shoulders, doubling back to defend. She felt like she had taken more damage in her own assault than she'd dished out. Yuffie mimicked her move and deployed her weapon yet again.

"Can't take me, huh?" she sneered at Tifa, with an uncharacteristic, cruel smirk painted on her face.

Desperate, and somewhat against her better judgment, Tifa pounced up in the air to catch it. One of the points clipped her forehead before her fingers locked around one of the bars, but she managed to hold on. A heavy stream of blood leaked from the fresh gouge, pouring down to flood her eyes. Tifa swiped at the wound to clear her face, and planted Yuffie's weapon firmly in the concrete wall. A fleeting memory of doing exactly the same with Cloud's Tsurugi on accident flashed through her mind. It had taken them hours to pry the thing out.

Yuffie was effectively disarmed. If she tried to retrieve her weapon, Tifa saw nothing to keep her from pummeling her into submission. But Yuffie shattered her small reprieve when she took to the wall, trotting against the pull of gravity to snatch her shuriken from above. She popped her weapon out with ease, a small shower of concrete pieces revealing that the wall had been cracked before their fight.

Reflexively, Tifa bounded out of Yuffie's immediate reach, but the woman fell on her, tackling her awkwardly to the debris-covered floor. Bits of twisted metal and jagged concrete gouged her back and legs, and punctured small holes in her gloves, digging into the palms of her hands. The back of her head smacked into the unyielding ground, bouncing slightly on impact. A small, hopeless part of Tifa hoped to black out; to let Yuffie finish her off. Death would take everything out of her hands, wouldn't it? Then, she could at least see Cloud and the others one last time before Gaia fell.

Tifa's stomach lurched, and her vision blurred, but she remained conscious. Triumphantly, Yuffie pinned her down with one knee, viciously pressing into her diaphragm. Her shuriken found its way to the front of her throat, threatening to pierce her jugular with each labored breath she took. Tifa closed her eyes. The  _thing_  that was about to take her life was not one of her best friends, she reasoned; merely a monster created in that friend's image. She refused to dishonor her memory of the real Yuffie by watching her form delight in her torture.

Time slowed, and seconds lasted minutes as Tifa's pulse quickened in waiting for the fatal cut. A foreign, numbing tension seeped into her muscles. She imagined it came from knowing for certain that she was about to die. Her body was just preparing to deal with the pain of its impending slaughter.

"Just get it over with, Yuffie," Tifa croaked, fighting only the jolt of fear and absolute vulnerability she felt when she gave the invitation.

Ever so briefly, she wished that Vincent, Reeve, Shelke, or anyone at all would happen by the soon to be murder scene and stop her. Was it too much to ask?

The tension gathering in her limbs quickly transformed into a soothing, cold healing sensation. She'd only experienced this kind of restorative power once before, and the more familiar it felt, the more Tifa panicked. Her lungs sucked in huge, violent gasps of air as every wound sealed shut, every splinter ejected, and the dull, concussive throb at the back of her head ceased.

"Not again, please," she whimpered, hyperventilating.

" _Even without strings to pull, your life is mine, Tifa. You will see that I am your master…"_

His presence overwhelmed her and overloaded all of her senses. No more was Sephiroth a harassing specter, or just a menacing, headache- instigating voice in her head. Tifa could feel him as he forcefully melded her mind with his consciousness. She squirmed futilely to make him stop; make him leave her alone. Deeper still he continued their fusion until she could feel him feeding off of everything she was, taking command of every part. Unseen eyes perused every secret thought; unwanted hands prodded and probed every sacred memory, staining them. Tifa tried to scream when she lost motor control, only able to sense that Sephiroth was instilling her physical body with incredible strength.

Inwardly, she wept and begged him to release her. Now, she was experiencing his thoughts and emotions in first person, coming from within, but like involuntary spasms. Sephiroth's full fury and sorrow drove her into the smallest passageway of her mind as her spirit burned, unwillingly converging with his until there was nothing left of him she could question; no morbid mysteries left to understand.

In the course of executing his new strategy against the Planet, he had become vicariously fascinated with her through Eden. He no longer desired her demise as he did with all else on Gaia; he wanted to keep her as a living token of his first conquest. Tifa did all she could to separate herself from his essence, trying in vain to keep from learning anything else. She didn't want to understand his depraved obsessions, goals, and deepest motives. She couldn't stand how thoroughly tied into all of his designs she'd become, having practically walked right into them. Yet, if he left her as she wished, she knew by now that he'd leave an unmistakable imprint. He'd give her something to make it impossible for her to forget how he'd entangled their souls and remind her that he could always do it again.

When their merging finished, Tifa looked on hopelessly from inside herself as Yuffie was thrown from her body by an invisible burst of energy. She stood, and stalked after the other woman, cornering her against the opposite wall. Pinning Yuffie against it by her neck, she ripped her shuriken out of her now-trembling hands.

The scene stalled before her, and Tifa felt Sephiroth smirk into her isolated corner.  _"You will watch her die,"_ he whispered from within, and her brain received it as a signal of her own will to be obeyed.

Her eyes snapped into sharp focus, almost unblinking. Tifa's left arm thrust forward and buried one of the shuriken's four points deep into Yuffie's chest, forcing it through until the concrete at her back crunched, and she was pinned. With her mouth gaping in utter shock, Yuffie's true personality surfaced one last time in her hurt, shining eyes.

"T-Tifa..?" Yuffie rasped, lifting a hand to touch her weapon in disbelief.

All signs of life departed from young ninja's body. Innumerable streams of corroded spirit energy spilt from Yuffie, fleeing down the halls and into the Stasis Center's machinery. When it was all gone, a single, minuscule particle of pure, verdant Lifestream emerged from her corpse, making a speedy escape into the ground below.

Tifa stumbled back from her deceased comrade as Sephiroth relinquished his control. Blinking, she expected to break down, but she could hardly grasp a single, lucid emotion to work with. Her thoughts had become too disoriented for her to react; she could only stare blankly at the bleeding hole in Yuffie's body. She couldn't peel her eyes away from watching the thick, dark moisture of her life's blood dripping down. It flowed so freely, down the woman's torso, splitting at her legs and trickling to her feet before falling to the floor. It was a defeat beyond any form of healing or revival.

The first clear thought to surface from the haze of Tifa's confusion was that her hands had done this. Mercilessly, she'd driven her friend back, and had killed her. She had tried to wrest self-control back from Sephiroth, but she'd failed. Yuffie had perished because of that failure.

Echoing down the hall somewhere, Tifa heard hurried footsteps. Help was on the way, but much, much too late. Fixing her gaze on the blood-soaked floor, she ignored them. In a strictly self-observational sense, she knew she was in shock. It wasn't the first time it had ever happened, after all. But nothing had ever disturbed her to this extent. Sephiroth had bent all but the tiniest fragment of her being to his will. And even while she'd tried to kick him out, he made her understand that she only kept that small part because he allowed it. He let her keep it on purpose, so that she would recall all that had transpired between them clearly and recover as her natural self.

In her peripheral vision, Tifa saw Reeve, Vincent, and Shelke come running from around the corner. What would they do or say when they saw what she had done? Shelke answered her curiosity with three quick shots from a tranquilizer gun. No one asked any questions, and Tifa was tremendously grateful for the near-instant half sleep that took her. She didn't even feel herself collapse, although she knew she must have for how she was suddenly supporting her weight on all fours.

" _I'll get the kids. Thank you, Shelke."_

" _Yes. But I'm sorry I arrived too late to stop this…"_

As her eyes rolled back into her head to stay, Tifa was only vaguely aware of her body being lifted from the floor. A familiar, metallic hand supported her shoulders, but its owner remained perfectly silent. The last thought she had before falling completely unconscious was that Vincent would hate her when she confirmed that she was the one who had brutally slain Yuffie.

* * *

 

At first, Tifa thought she was hearing fireworks or thunder. She crossed her arms over her chest and bowed her head in a weak attempt to ignore the noise that had roused her. One arm became ensnared in a strap, convincing her to gauge her situation. Groggily, she peered out through one eye, and noted that she was tangled up in a seatbelt. Early morning light poured in from windows on all sides, but the glow occasionally intensified in small, erratic spurts.

Burying her face in her hands, Tifa swallowed. Her mouth and throat were too parched for her to speak comfortably, so she settled on sleeping a little longer, at least until the drug wore off. She could only recall that much right now-someone had knocked her out with a tranquilizer. The tight, growing knot in her stomach told her she shouldn't rush trying to remember exactly why. There was simply too much information for her to accept at once.

Then, the distant rumbling faded out, only to be replaced seconds later by a single, monstrous, violent blast. Forgetting herself, Tifa bolted upright, and looking out the window, she gasped at the sight of the most tremendous and focused Mako explosion she'd ever seen, rising into the sky several miles behind the vehicle. The W.R.O had really done it. Their Gaia-forsaken Jenova Stasis Center was gone. But as she studied the dark, sandy outskirt of corrupted Lifestream around the mushroom cloud's peak, Tifa could only wonder what this last, desperate and long-overdue act meant for the Planet. The black mist appeared exanimate, just drifting along on the shockwave. She supposed it all depended on how much of the Lifestream had been turned; that is, how much  _he_ had turned.

Sephiroth was next to powerless now, Tifa firmly reassured herself. That bomb had reduced the vast majority of the alien substance he used to afflict Gaia to radioactive ash. But oh, how far they had all let him go! If too little of the pure, natural Lifestream remained, then the Planet might still wither away, but much slower and more painfully. Symptoms of such an end were too easy to dream up. Crops could fail without sufficient life energy. Stillborn birth rates for animals and human babies might sky-rocket for the same reason. As the Planet gathered what precious little was left to heal itself, life on the surface could soon cease to exist. Instead of dying for the birth of a god, Gaia could resort to self-cannibalization.

Tifa wondered briefly which end was truly worse. Yet, until anyone knew for sure, they still had a slim fighting chance. Perhaps humanity could still follow in the footsteps of the Cetra and cultivate the dead land; urge forth new life. Hadn't Aerith's rain three years ago proven that the corrupted Lifestream could be cleansed? Beyond the bomb's deathly flare, the sun was rising higher in the sky. Mid-morning had arrived, indifferent to another one of Gaia's close brushes with doomsday.

"Normally, you'd be blind by now. The windows are specially tinted, but don't be surprised if you have a headache later."

Plucking her attention from the conflagration outside, Tifa took in her surroundings. She recognized the vehicle she was in as one of the W.R.O.'s vans. In the seat across from her sat Shelke, somberly regarding the blast. Next to her, Marlene and Eden were securely strapped in, still slumbering. Vincent was driving, and Reeve accompanied him in the passenger's seat. Aside from Shelke's nonchalant comment, no one made a peep.

"I know," Tifa whispered. Her own voice suddenly sounded so very wrong. Her repentant, sullen speech was evidence for all the stupid, thoughtless things she'd done, and all the violence she'd allowed herself to be manipulated into committing.

She would almost welcome physical pain, so long as it came from something common and external like eye strain. Anything that could distract her from how deeply her heart ached, and how fast her thoughts raced by, Tifa would gladly endure. But gradually, she started recounting what it had meant to be enslaved in every sense, realizing what Sephiroth had done to her. Even with his primary weapon against Gaia fried, it would never change the fact that he'd burned the whole of his being into her memories. He had branded her in a way that she'd never considered possible, and now she only needed to glance inward to find the ghost of his smoldering Mako eyes staring back. Ignoring him left her mentally adrift even now; severely insecure in whether or not her perceptions were true to reality.

" _And I am always with you…"_

An afterimage; a flashback. Tifa fought the need to scream upon sensing his silent words streaming hand in hand with her sad musings again. His repetitive incursions had made it too easy for her wounded psyche to duplicate the experience, and too difficult not to be on constant guard. Pushing the feeling away, she sat up straight, and locked her line of sight onto the people in front of her. Yes, Eden reminded her of Sephiroth, but that had always been true. And while Marlene's prognosis was unpredictable, she was one of very few people left that Tifa had known for some time. No matter how unbearable those facts were, she hoped that concentrating on concrete, undeniable things would at least drown out the memory of Sephiroth's voice.

Then, Tifa perked up as the radio up front buzzed to life with an emergency broadcast. She dedicated her full attention to the mechanical female voice; embraced its blessed impersonality.

"… _Edge, eighty-two percent; the Corel area, sixty-two percent; Wutai, sixty-six percent; Mideel, seventy-two percent; and Junon, sixty-eight percent. Infection levels are pending from Rocket Town and Cosmo Canyon, as those locales have fallen into radio silence. Previous measurements indicated seventy-seven and seventy-six percent, respectively. The W.R.O. has mobilized a medical research team to assess the human loss…"_

Vincent switched it off, turning the volume down with a furious twist of his pointer and thumb. He slammed on the gas, speeding the van into Edge, flying down the main highway that led to W.R.O. headquarters. Although he made no attempt to hide his anger, it elicited nothing from him or Reeve. Whether he was angry with her, or just grieving more potentially dead friends, Tifa couldn't tell. If he had anything to say to her, he'd eventually say it. She was neither going to nag him about the specifics, nor ask anyone for forgiveness she didn't deserve.

Interrupting her penitent thoughts, the comatose Marlene convulsed. White froth poured from both sides of her mouth, while abrupt rapid eye movement twisted her features. Tifa and Shelke unbuckled hurriedly to tend to her. As Tifa carefully positioned the girl's head to prevent her from choking on her own tongue, Shelke wiped away the overflow of saliva from her face. Only a small hand lightly touching her arm tore her eyes away from Marlene for the slightest fraction of a second.

Eden was awake, and mysteriously in much better shape than Marlene. Apparently considerate, he stayed in place, observing with a detached curiosity as Tifa's fingers worked cautiously around Marlene's neck and wrists, checking and double-checking for a pulse.

"Vincent, pull over," Shelke calmly ordered him. "We can't stabilize her if we're mobile."

"The bar's close to the next exit. What about there?" Tifa hastily suggested. At home, there were at least some basic medical supplies. The only things they had here in the van were their weapons and the clothes on their backs.

"If it's more than ten minutes out, she's finished," Shelke insisted.

"Less than five! No one's in the way," Reeve confirmed.

For once, seeing the highway and main city arteries so devoid of other drivers didn't trouble Tifa. In no time, Vincent had veered sharply to the right, and plowed across eight lanes of what would have been heavy oncoming traffic. After two more turns and a near-collision with a street sign, the vehicle's wheels screeched to a halt in front of Seventh Heaven.

Everyone immediately scrambled out of the van, opening and slamming the doors. Tifa carefully maneuvered Marlene in her arms, warily eyeing Eden. He was walking on his own strength yet again, tailing after the group without so much as asking to be carried. But he was quiet, his behavior gracefully subdued, giving no hints of rebellion or juvenile hysterics.

Filing into the bar after Tifa, he quietly climbed up onto a bar stool, and continued watching. His sleepy emerald eyes passed from Marlene to Tifa and back again. She could tell that the effects of the tranquilizer hadn't completely worn off by how he folded his arms on the countertop and pillowed his head on them. Regardless of why, Tifa was relieved he wasn't hovering over Marlene as she feared he might. Only when Shelke, Reeve, and Vincent had split up to fetch stashed-away materia, smelling salts, and water did the boy bother to speak up.

"I know how to help her," he innocently asserted.

Tifa shook her head, rejecting the notion outright. She wasn't interested in finding out what kind of assistance the young Sephiroth Remnant had to offer. "I know you want to, but it's probably better if you let us take care of her," she answered him, mustering all the gentleness she could to her tone.

Eden gazed into the distance and shrugged, "I'm going to keep my promise."

There was more to Eden and Marlene's relationship than she was aware of, Tifa had come to understand. Added to Marlene's infection, she suspected that it had quickly evolved into something bizarre and twisted by Reunion's call. Checking the girl's vitals once more, Tifa clenched her back teeth. But she couldn't resist asking; she needed to know what Eden thought he was planning, with his end imminent.

"Eden…What kind of promise?"

The boy slid down from his seat and stared at her incredulously. He seemed suddenly older than his small stature and soft face allowed; no longer a docile, shy youth. "You already know, Tifa. Unlike you, she didn't hesitate to accept her gift. Because of her…Mother is with me."

She took a startled step back from both children. What was he implying? After the bomb, there was just no way he could be telling the truth about  _that._  Upstairs in the apartment, and back in the training room, she could hear the others rummaging around for the things they'd need to keep Marlene alive until she could see a doctor. Tifa fought the creeping urge to call for their help, choosing instead to continue questioning the boy.

"What did Marlene do?" she murmured.

"She became my sister, and offered herself to my Reunion," Eden replied truthfully, pacing a little closer.

To say that Jenova's infectious presence had brainwashed Marlene was an understatement. The image of Marlene sitting in a puddle of alien biological waste like it was some kind of wading pool, and absorbing the muck was still fresh in her mind's eye. Eden probably wasn't exaggerating. Tifa quickly decided that the kids would have to leave Seventh Heaven separately. She had little option but to draw the morbid conclusion that Marlene was sustaining Eden's life now. If she died near him, he might be able to use her remains to have his Reunion.

"But you can't always get what you want, Eden," she softly patronized him.

The boy smirked at her false confidence, smugly folding his hands behind his back. "No child can. But when I am whole?"

"I won't let it happen!" Tifa sternly insisted, honest fear getting the better of her composure.

For the first time, she didn't see a helpless, misguided child when she looked at Eden. Not at all. She clearly discerned an ingenious façade designed to confuse and manipulate; precisely what Genesis had tried to convey before she fought him. Tifa was horrified, for even Yuffie had always seen him for not just what, but  _who_  this kid actually was. She'd acted kindly toward him, all the while humorously dubbing him "larval". Looking back, she almost thought that Yuffie had purposely stopped short of calling Sephiroth out on his game. In hindsight, it was no wonder he'd used and eliminated her in such a grotesque, torturous manner.

Eden reacted by swiftly closing the few feet between them and grabbing Tifa's hand. On contact, her mind flared in agonizing recognition of its too-familiar intruder, and she dropped involuntarily to one knee. The destruction of Jenova's remains was supposed to have seriously disabled Sephiroth, but his spirit lingered, all consuming, shaking Tifa's mind loose of any rational train of thought.

Gently, Eden guided her to sit on the floor, as blood-curdling, blinding pain radiated from temple to temple, and into her eyes. Immobilized and hardly able to stand, Tifa had to obey him.

"Good girl, Tifa. This part isn't your choice," he purred, and turned to face his sister. "Come to me, Marlene."

Straining to see straight between the piercing psychic spasms, Tifa saw Marlene sit up, and her eyes pop wide open. She tried and tried to call for Vincent or Reeve, but her vocal cords were paralyzed, and her throat so tightly constricted she could barely breathe.

Dazed and wordless, Marlene hopped down from the counter, and into Eden's waiting embrace. They clung to one another viciously, and puffs of dark mist erupted from Marlene's body. Streams of wicked energy rapidly engulfed both children, flowing from her, encircling and entering into the boy. She was literally evaporating, and Eden was absorbing her!

Tifa's helpless form quaked terribly, and tears leaked from her burning, pulsating eyes. She could easily lift both kids if she ever needed to, but now she was frozen in her enemy's mental grasp, utterly powerless to stop them. Closer and tighter Eden wrapped his arms around Marlene, until she melded with him completely, leaving nothing behind but her clothes, bunched up in his small hands. They fell to the floor as he opened his palms in slow-motion, enraptured by the surge of energy still rushing in from where Marlene had stood only a moment ago.

Assured of what came next, Tifa forced a weak noise through her mouth, a horrified cry that emerged only as a tiny whimper.

 


	20. Divinity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Φ=WUλ+RUρ+SUλUρ  
> W=-SUλΦ  
> AU=(GMek-2)^1/3  
> h=πr^2

A strong downdraft revived Tifa, who lay prostrate on the bar's floor. Disoriented, waves of nausea battered her stomach, and her ears rang from the inside out. Fearfully, she dragged the palm of her hand over the surface, sifting through moist debris. Dust and chunks of wood had fallen from the ceiling. A light, rainy mist blew in on the wind. The damp spray caught her off guard. She only remembered trying to call for help, and the tremendous, upward surge of energy that had followed when Eden finished consuming Marlene.

Disbelieving, she craned her neck to see through stray, wet locks of hair blocking her vision. Something had punctured a sizable hole into the apartment, and up through the roof. Tifa blinked once, thinking she saw something move, and small globs of blood dripped from her eyes. They stung when she tried to focus on the shadowy form looming before her.

A calm, malevolent chuckle echoed from within the figure, and her eyesight instantly returned. The blurry mass was barely human in shape, but looking again, Tifa saw layers of corrupted spirit energy converging over it, filling it out. Working with feigned strength, on impulse and an adrenaline rush, Tifa pushed off from the floor and made a bee-line for the exit.

"Everyone get out!" she shouted, not knowing if the others were still here or even alive.

Fortunately, they were one step ahead of her. As she yelled, she heard windows breaking upstairs, and three hard thumps on the pavement outside. But when she flung the door open, something tugged on her shoulders, quickly changing into a vacuum force that sucked her backwards. Desperately, she grabbed the door frame, fighting against her slick, wet, bleeding fingers to keeping from slipping. Adding to her horror, undulating tendrils of infected Lifestream wormed up from cracks in the road and seeped out through manholes.

Barely maintaining her grip, Tifa ducked to strain against the gravitational pull and thrust one foot outside, latching it around the door frame. Yet, the streams gathered together and crept along the ground into Seventh Heaven, strengthening the drawing force emanating from what used to be Eden and Marlene. Her hair felt like it was trying to rip free from the back of her head, while the hems of her clothing constricted around her neck and the fronts of her limbs.

"Try to hold on, Tifa! We're coming!" Reeve called out, dropping to all fours to claw his way back.

He, Shelke, and Vincent were trying to get to her, but violent blasts of wind and rain assailed their path. Every step they took made them stagger, tripping over their own feet.

"Mmm…no! Just go!" Tifa screamed. Sephiroth had to be using her to bait them; forcing her to take part in their deaths as well.

Outside, a small wisp of black Lifestream collided with the foot she'd hooked around the doorway, exerting enough pressure to twist it. Recoiling, one of her hands lost its grip, and then the other. Unable to anchor herself, she expected to be dragged back into the bar; back to Sephiroth's slow, horrific rebirth. But at the last minute, the high winds died, and a foggy, white glow cut through the pervasive darkness. In the corner of her eye, she saw Aerith leaning against the other side of the door frame, sadly regarding the darkened sky. Quickly stepping outside, Tifa started to ask her what she was supposed to do, but the other woman turned her back, silently rejecting her question.

"…shouldn't you be on your way now?" she gently suggested and faded out.

Hobbling on her injured foot, Tifa met the others halfway. As she looked back, her mouth fell slightly ajar at the sight of Seventh Heaven. Her bar and home had become encased in a sphere of bruised, corroded energy. Within it, the whole structure was slowly imploding. A tiny, niggling thought poked around in the back of her head, telling her that she should stay near, and watch the spectacle unfold from a little further out. The winds  _had_ died down after she'd escaped…

"We need to go," Vincent broke in. "Do you need help walking?"

"No, Vincent, I'm alright," Tifa lied.

The man had already lost a faithful friend and sister in arms because of her. She could hardly bear to look at him, let alone let him help her.

Reeve, on the other hand, didn't bother asking. Rising up from the pavement, he threw one of Tifa's arms around his shoulders to support her, and marched on. "There's no time. Sephiroth's metamorphosis may be taking longer because he used a child this time. But we have no way of knowing."

And what was she thinking? Was she really that ready to forfeit? The idea gave her pause. The only certainty was that there was no such thing as a safe distance from what was going on here. Inside the very building she once called home, Sephiroth was fulfilling his Reunion for the third time. Standing around and watching like some hapless spectator wouldn't change that. How could she even imagine that this event was anything else after what she'd just witnessed?

Obediently, she trotted alongside Reeve until they reached the van. Tifa crawled inside, and settled on the floor, curling into herself. She waited for one of them to suggest fighting him before his Reunion was complete, but when they didn't, her heart sank even lower. Like her, they had come to the awful but rational conclusion that they couldn't win here and now. They were nowhere near prepared. And if they could understand what Sephiroth was doing this time like she did, she doubted they'd have the heart to do much more than run. This was the last stage. Gaia had already lost on the inside, if what he'd shown her proved true.

Shelke wiggled in beside her, and tenderly inspected her ankle. "Just a sprain. If we survive, you should heal properly."

"If we survive," Tifa echoed. As they left, she gazed back at her bar. The more she thought about it, the more it felt like each chapter of her life always somehow ended with  _him._ "I know I will," she whispered, frightened.

Then, Shelke looked her dead in the eyes, and without hesitance said, "Sephiroth has chosen you for something…Unfortunate. I apologize; the telepathic link should have made it more obvious to us..."

"I don't want to be reminded," Tifa quietly replied, staring at her feet and wishing for the world that Shelke hadn't phrased it that way; the same way Eden would have.

But for all her dread, she still couldn't resist climbing up onto the seat when a thunderous roar sounded from behind them. The corrupt Lifestream that had flooded Seventh Heaven was erupting through its roof in a massive, whirlwind spiral. A low, eerie growl followed, having no particular origin; it was coming from everywhere.

Cautious, Vincent pulled the van over once he'd driven past Edge's taller buildings.

From the height of the highway, Tifa looked out into the wastes, where a plain mockery of the Planet's salvation from Meteor was playing out. Powerful, liquid streams of contaminated life energy burst from the crust and flowed towards Edge. As they approached, they merged and drifted to meet with the font that had sprung from the bar.

Studying the Lifestream's actions intently, Reeve attempted to draw a more hopeful conclusion, "Perhaps Marlene and Eden weren't enough..."

Tifa sat on her knees and hugged the back of her seat, locking her sights on the black, swirling sky. Not a single, tiny sliver of pure life emerged to combat the deluge of corrosion. "Sounds like wishful thinking," she grieved.

With a quiet, resigned sigh, Tifa Lockhart secretly gave up.

Far and wide, undeniable proof that Sephiroth had defeated Gaia spread. But in that same breath, she decided that she wouldn't kill her friends' misguided hopes. The least painful, least devastating way for them to perish was in fighting; believing that like always, the Planet would eke out a last-minute victory. No, she wouldn't tell them anything she'd learned when Sephiroth had possessed her. They would never have to know that the Planet didn't have anything left to use in this fight; not more than they already did. Its defenses were long-since ruined, and now the Lifestream itself had almost fully transformed into a deadly poison.

Yet, she didn't have the gall simply to yield to Sephiroth. All Tifa planned to do was sit and wait. Or, run and wait. She'd stick it out with her friends and play her part until the end. That was one thing she could spare them, and herself. She would never have to look back and admit she'd betrayed them.

"There are no safe paths," Vincent observed.

Tifa squeezed past Shelke and left the van. What the Lifestream was doing, or what Sephiroth was doing with it, really was a mirror image of what had happened five years ago. And no one ever wanted to see the Planet do something like that again. Even as it destroyed Meteor, it had slaughtered anyone who happened to be in its path. Then, Sephiroth had used it to spread the first Geostigma infection, so very soon after his defeat. Many had become convinced that Gaia was trying to purge humanity entirely. But the sad truth was that the Planet could never stay far enough ahead of him. Not even the combined knowledge and wisdom of the Cetra could measure up.

A shining, nebulous object materialized from the base of the twister, and Tifa watched it rise to the top of the storm's eye. As it ascended, the vortex below disintegrated until it was gone. A luminescent ring flared to life around it, bathing the roiling clouds in harsh, white light. Fear like nothing she'd felt before gripped her heart then, because she couldn't make herself look away or close her eyes. He wasn't just in her mind or on a separate plane of existence anymore.

The shapeless entity grew larger and thinner, until it was little more than a translucent curtain. Paralyzed, Tifa gawked at the one-winged silhouette veiled behind it. She told herself that now was the right time to run; that she needed to get back into the van right away, but the best she could do was brace herself against the door. Gradually, the circling clouds eroded the last of the covering, until it fizzled out in sparks of raw Mako energy.

Dark-clad, beauteous, and terrifying, Sephiroth hovered overhead. In his resurrected form, he appeared no different than all those times he'd come to her in nightmares and visions. His platinum hair and black wing feathers fluttered in the wind, making him look like the ghost he should have been; what she wished he would have remained. Raising his hands slightly, bright, cerulean flames of spirit energy enveloped him, mingling with his luminous aura.

Sephiroth had already taken his fill of toying with his prey; now, he was preparing to annihilate.

Although he was several yards above, Tifa could feel his feline eyes boring into her, gleaming smug and triumphant. Minutes passed, and he didn't blink. She couldn't break free. A corner of his lips curled up into a knowing, satisfied smirk. Of course, he knew she was pretending they could all still survive his third advent. He always knew what she was planning, what she was thinking, every time-there was no escape.

" _Do not lament for them, Tifa. One with me, they will live again,"_ he silently relayed.

As Masamune materialized in his left hand, Tifa flinched at the high-frequency hum it emitted. Hypnotized, she only managed to scream when Vincent and Reeve pulled her back into the vehicle, breaking her trance. Vincent joined her in the back seat, loosely restraining her with one hand around her right arm, and Reeve took his place driving.

"This is not how it ends, Tifa," Vincent gently scolded her.

Reeve slammed on the gas, pushing the large van as fast as it could go. But as Vincent had feared, huge jets of Sephiroth's Lifestream swooped by, narrowly missing them. In places, the roads had caved in, creating deep chasms from which more and more of Gaia's corruption escaped.

Tifa couldn't respond; she  _knew_  for certain they were finished. Her head was buzzing and hot, as if the mental link Sephiroth had created between them could detect the close proximity of its maker. She kept spacing out while gruesome, hallucinatory images of torment and death flooded her mind's eye, disrupting any normal sense of panic or self-preservation. They did not belong to her. Some, Sephiroth had committed, while he himself had been afflicted with others. What he was showing her was cause and effect; actions he took in reaction, until his desire for retribution and utter dominance made perfect sense to her.

A Mako-eyed child sitting on a cold lab floor, his body flooded with harmful, experimental biochemistry. A young teenager who'd soiled his sword for the first time and had been hailed as a hero for doing so. A man disgusted with anything less than human, anyone lacking intelligence; a slayer of monsters and abominations. A man denied family and friends, accused of being the very thing he warred against. And then, he was enlightened. He became the chosen scion of divine vengeance, wandering through the flames; a rising god who cut down anyone who dared to obstruct his path. All deaths, including his, were means of transcendence. In his Mother's place, he sought to ascend as the ultimate manifestation of life.

Life itself could never be a monstrosity, yet it was always born of death. Worlds in of themselves were bound by that truth.

In understanding, a foreign, lurid sense of sympathy pierced her heart, and Tifa wept, ashamed of her inner treason. Pity might have been acceptable, but this?

What Sephiroth had started with Eden and brought to fruition in possessing her, he'd now finished. Tifa couldn't stomach raising a finger against him or her friends.

Meanwhile, the sky overhead grew darker. Rain started falling in heavy, torrential sheets. Droplets, not of water, but of black, oily ichor rapidly coated the windows, making it impossible to see where the Lifestream flowed. As the windshield wipers struggled to keep up, the van swerved and lurched.

In a fleeting moment of lucidity, Tifa watched her friends' efforts to make it through. One by one, she found herself considering what she admired and respected in each of them. What she would miss when she lost them…

There was Shelke, who'd buckled in and was sitting perfectly still with closed eyes, patiently awaiting one end or another. Her child-like appearance could never hide her SOLDIER's discipline. Deep down, Tifa imagined she probably still partially identified with that bizarre life, for whatever good it was worth. It was something that had been a part of her for too long to detach from completely, so she changed how she used it. Independent, she chose her own loyalties, and defended them fiercely.

Next to her, Vincent conferred with W.R.O. Headquarters, which was surprisingly still standing and operational, giving out some kind of order. He'd made such great strides as a person since Tifa had known him, but he was always after some deeper level of redemption; always wary of repeating past mistakes. Ironically, as the only one who had the nerve to try to stop Eden from the very start, he was blameless. Tifa wiped her eyes, and wondered if he'd live long enough to realize at least that much.

And in the driver's seat, there was Reeve, his jaw tightly set while he focused only on getting everyone there alive. He'd always played the part of the kindly manipulator, ever dutiful in using his position in the world for the greater good. Sadly, his double-edged benevolence had gotten the better of him when Eden turned up. Not that Tifa would ever hold that against him; she'd followed in his footsteps quite recklessly, undoubtedly going far beyond anything he had planned to do to help the kid. But he'd trusted her with him anyway.

The last of her friends were the most resilient, dependable, and honorable. In many ways, they were most like the person she'd tried to be not so long ago. All three were ruled and judged by their consciences, having committed past sins they knew they'd never be able to reconcile fully. But they pushed on nonetheless. Just like her; just as she'd once done.

And now, they were about to learn the futility of their perseverance. They were all going to die because of her.

At last, before her emotional state could get the better of her, the van pulled into the W.R.O. Headquarters' parking lot. Outside, soldiers dressed in heavy raincoats hurried to put the finishing touches on an assembly of tanks and missile launchers. Civilian members helped by setting up massive tarps over the staging area, shielding the fighters and their weapons from the downpour. The remaining members of the W.R.O.'s armed contingent pored over maps of Edge and various radar devices.

As the weary foursome left the van and made their way to the building, Tifa eavesdropped on a commander in the middle of a debriefing session with a group of gunners.

" _A strong pulse of energy was detected over the downtown area at precisely 1700 hours…It has been ascertained by Tuesti and Valentine that what we are dealing with is the re-emergence of ShinRa's ex-SOLDIER First Class, General Sephiroth. We're gonna try to take him down with a battery of anti-aircraft artillery. Should the target land, continue a concentrated firing pattern…do not attempt to engage him in hand-to-hand combat…"_

Tifa pursed her lips and kept walking. What they were planning wasn't going to work. Why didn't anyone remember? Five years ago, ShinRa had tried to defeat Sephiroth in one shot with the Sister Ray. It had only succeeded in vaporizing the barrier he'd constructed over the Northern Crater. When she, Cloud, and the others reached him at the bottom, seeing Sephiroth without so much as a scratch from the Mako cannon had left her nearly hopeless that they could stop him. But at least back then, Tifa had way too much to fight for to let that keep her down. Perhaps that was also the case for those taking part in this last-ditch defensive. For that, she simply let them continue.

Finally, the slimy rains slowed to a halt, and she paused to glance up. Sephiroth had to be pursuing her, but since they'd fled the highway, he'd disappeared from sight. A slight breeze blew through the area, as in the aftermath of a normal storm, but the corrupt Lifestream still shrouded the sky.

_That_  was the difference for her this time—her actions wouldn't change anything. There was almost no one left to save, and revenge wouldn't comfort her. Even if she could kill Sephiroth, he had emotionally manipulated her to the point where she'd actually feel guilty for it, and it wouldn't bring anyone back.

Rationally, Tifa was still of sound mind. In spite of her confused feelings, she held fast to her awareness that Sephiroth deserved neither pity nor sympathy; his crimes had long ago gone too far. But the same logic also indicated that Gaia had reached the point of no return. She'd become too wrapped up in grieving the loss of friends and caring for Eden and Marlene to realize  _exactly_ how bad the Planet was suffering before it was too late. All she'd been able to take in was the severity of the second Geostigma outbreak, especially when business had slowed at Seventh Heaven. Now, the churning, infected spirit energy in the sky above spelled it out for her.

Again, she reminded herself that being Eden's guardian had put more than enough power in her hands to tip the scales in Gaia's favor. It had been too easy to assume that Sephiroth had sent his child Remnant her way, but in hindsight, that didn't add up. All it would have taken was one merciless act on her part, and he never would have made it this far. The Planet, Cloud, and Aerith—they had entrusted her with that task, but she'd misconstrued her grim duty for something it never should have been. If someone accused her of being equally responsible for the Planet's demise, Tifa would have to agree. Even Sephiroth, albeit subtly, had been gracious enough to slip her a hint of when it was time to make that choice.

As she continued to watch the sky, flaming, blue-green arcs rippled across the cloud bottoms. Her eyes followed them to a shining point of light hovering over Edge, at their center. Blinking became difficult, and her limbs were suddenly too heavy to move. An invisible shell of numbness covered her; Tifa was trapped.

"We have to get inside," Reeve coaxed her.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she turned and followed him. In reality, Tifa didn't respond at all. She couldn't; not until that mysterious speck of light blinked out. Not until something fluttered and landed behind her, rapidly ensued by a high-frequency, metallic whine.

And then, she heard all three of her friends fall.

While she stared at the pavement in shocked disbelief, streams of blood flowed freely between her feet. She didn't want to look back; Tifa already knew he was there. Before her, the W.R.O.'s infantrymen had stopped in place as though they were parts of a recording. Off to her left, she caught a glimpse of Masamune's dripping, blood-soaked point. Her time for pretending had come to an end.

"Sephiroth," she blankly said his name.

"Turn around, Tifa."

"Yes," her voice came out as a hoarse whisper, and she complied.

Vincent, Reeve, and Shelke lay heaped together on the pavement in a gory pile. Vincent had nearly been decapitated. Reeve bore a large slash across his chest, much like the one Sephiroth had given her back in Nibelheim. Shelke was cut clean in half. Tifa held her breath, trying not to vomit. In one, clean fell swoop, Sephiroth had ended the last, minuscule reason Tifa might have had to resist him. If they'd lived until the very end, even though she was only acting like they hadn't already lost, she would have given that last battle her all.

Now…it was pointless.

Slow trails of tears fell from the corners of Tifa's eyes, but she was done grieving. She'd known all along that he was going to finish them one way or another. Like this, they would never have to come to the agonizing realization that theirs was a futile fight. And for all its repulsiveness, Sephiroth had chosen to take them out execution style. He wasted no time on the type of cruelty or excessive torture he'd used with Cloud. One minute they were alive; the next, they were not.

Yet, as she stared at her friends' mutilated bodies, a small, obstinate part of her soul refused to acknowledge Sephiroth. The thought that he had done her some kind of morbid favor made her want to gag. Whether it was for horror, conscience, or instinct, Tifa could only guess. She didn't get time to mull it over before Masamune's end drew a small cut under her chin, forcing her to look at him. Wincing from the sting, she held her hands stiff at her sides, and tried to focus on the space between his arched bangs. She'd take anything that would let her get away with not having to meet his eyes.

But in an instant, he'd removed the sword, and moved in on her. So close, there was no avoiding his burning, emerald gaze. She was helpless to the intoxicating mental pulse she felt when his hands cupped her face, and thumbs smeared away her tears, denying their right to fall. His false comfort lulled her into a sleepy state, one in which she couldn't summon the willpower to stop him.

"Don't be sad, Tifa."

"…What now?" she slurred, too shocked to come up with anything better.

His unexpected, tender words reminded her of Eden, obliterating any lingering doubt that he and Sephiroth were truly one and the same. They were merely two sides of the same person, and she'd been naive enough to nurture one until the other could manifest.

In a subspace flash, he transported her with him above the clouds. Sephiroth's telekinetic hold kept her aloft. Only small, vague ideas of struggle emerged in her thoughts when she looked down. Her choice was between one form of damnation and another. What would be the point? Instead, Tifa simply allowed her mind to wander. But just when she thought she'd found an imaginary escape, he appeared only a precious few feet away, ensnaring her in the present.

Tifa held herself, blocking out his nearness, along with the freezing, high-altitude winds.

Below, several small, orange bursts fired off in rapid succession. The W.R.O. was proceeding with its mission. A barrage of missiles was headed their way, leaving behind white vapor trails as evidence of their accurate trajectory.

Sephiroth laughed coldly, and extended an arm along with his wing, obstructing her view of the oncoming attack. At first, Tifa cowered, but one by one, each projectile exploded several yards away, colliding with an invisible wall.

For a split second, she was relieved. Then, she remembered that all those missed shots represented humanity's last stand against the one who wanted to destroy and consume them. Knowing that, what did her life matter? By now, she should have been  _happy_ to sacrifice for the world she'd somewhat unwittingly helped Sephiroth conquer. But her survival instinct took over, ruling that she must still desire to live, even if that life was in his hands.

No, he didn't need Jenova's influence to exert control over her. True to his word, Sephiroth had shown her how easily he could reduce her to a creature totally compliant to his will. Tifa could wish and hope for death all she pleased, but unless he desired the same for her, she was incapable of ever wanting it enough.

Sephiroth turned his gaze to the men and machinery below. "I have become one with this Planet; it is one with me." he proclaimed and proceeded to tear the world asunder.

Streams of contaminated spirit energy descended from the clouds back into the ground, causing it to quake violently. The earth beneath W.R.O. Headquarters cracked, splitting wide open in multiple directions. Everyone there, the weaponry, and the building fell into the deep pit, while the streams he'd sent below leaked back out to bury them.

When it was over, nothing was left of the site but an unmarked, mass grave.

Tifa bit down hard on the inside of her lip. It was all she could do to keep from screaming in protest. All across the landscape, the ground was giving way, playing out repeat performances wherever anyone remained alive. Just as Sephiroth had intended, she was his witness, forced to watch while he made the Planet destroy itself.

She could no longer endure the sight. If her world had to die, that meant she should go with it. Tifa wriggled and squirmed against Sephiroth's hold, hoping only to loosen herself enough to plummet to the ground and be swallowed up with everyone else. He rewarded her with a psychic stab of pain through the top of her head, and the muscles in her limbs immediately locked down.

"Ahh…!" Tifa cried out, and a fresh flood of tears poured down her cheeks.

Sephiroth regarded her with dark amusement, and then…Was that supposed to be sympathy? He drifted near again, too close for her comfort. Touching her forehead with the palm of his hand, she felt him dismiss the horrid ache he'd only just inflicted.

"Does it hurt you, Tifa? It's almost over," he purred, his tone a perverse mix of mockery and consolation.

Gently, he lifted her head so that she faced the heavens. Above the storm of his Lifestream, the sky was still a deep, natural, sun-lit blue. At first, Tifa's heart slowed, soothed by the familiar view. She wanted to believe that, just for a few minutes, in some warped bout of mercy, he was letting her pretend everything was normal.

But while she took solace in that idea, her tunnel vision failed. She saw Sephiroth's form ablaze with a renewed surge of energy, and a comet streaked across the sky in a blinding flare of light, barely missing the Planet. As her eyes tracked its course, it morphed into a huge, unnaturally bright star in the daytime sky. Squinting, she saw it merge with the sun, before overwhelming brightness forced her to close her eyes.

Sheer terror wracked every nerve in her body in realization of what he was showing her. She'd seen him do this before, but only as an intimidating, illusory display channeled into a powerful attack. As she opened her eyes, Sephiroth removed his hand from beneath her face, allowing her to shield them better. Already, the heat and glare of the supernova sun had grown too intense; unbearably oppressive. Tifa wondered how much longer he'd make her suffer before he chose to spare her from its effects.

A dull roar slowly filled the atmosphere, growing louder and louder. Her skin burned, cracked and blistered, while the moisture in her eyes and mouth evaporated. She couldn't seal them tight enough. Had Sephiroth changed his mind? If he didn't protect her somehow, his attack was going to vaporize her right along with the rest of life on Gaia. As it was, he was cooking her alive!

Then, the air cooled, and the noise stopped. A chilly, comforting breeze instantly healed her scorched flesh. All Tifa could hear were her own erratic breaths, and her rapid, panicked heartbeat. A delicate hand touched her forearm, driving back her terror enough for her to peek out at who had saved her.

Caring, earthly green eyes stared back at her. They belonged to a kind, friendly face framed in locks of light brown hair. Aerith.

"You didn't think we'd forgotten you, did you?" she asked, smiling softly. "There's still something left for you to do. You have…a choice."

Damn her and her poorly timed humor, Tifa silently complained. But all things considered, she couldn't blame her for being a little insensitive. She'd performed rather poorly the last time someone asked her to "choose".

"What kind of choice?" Tifa wryly questioned. "I might not like it…"

Aerith stood and clasped her hands behind her back. "Tifa…Sephiroth really did beat us this time. He wasn't lying about that. But he hasn't taken everything yet. There's still a few of us left…"

Behind her, Cloud, Cid, Nanaki, and Yuffie stepped out of the fog.

With an ill-suppressed whimper, Tifa dashed forward to embrace Cloud. His spiky, blond hair was mussed and dirty, and his shirt and armor bore innumerable cuts. Whatever battles he'd been fighting had taken a lot out of him. But even now, she swore she felt his face warm up when he wrapped his arms around her.

"Listen, Tifa…We can't fight anymore," he began.

"I know…Cloud, I'm sorry…"

"All we can do now is try to help you escape, but you'll have to take us with you. It's the only way any of us are getting out of this."

"If you can help…even though I don't deserve it…" Tifa trailed off, resisting the urge to cry all over him.

He'd been fighting so hard, while she'd been nothing but counterproductive. Whatever he and the others felt necessary to do to her, she'd gladly accept.

"You don't deserve to be trapped with  _him,_ Tifa," Cloud countered, squeezing her tighter.

As they clung to one another, sparks of pure, clean spirit energy rose from Cloud's form, and merged with her. Slowly, she dropped her arms and stared, bewildered, at the allies that remained. They all appeared extremely battle-worn, but held their heads high, even in defeat. Tifa couldn't express how thankful she was to see that a few of them were still their natural selves.

Solemnly, they surrounded her, each one touching her arms, head, or shoulders.

Yuffie grinned like the big kid Tifa always knew she was. "No hard feelings, right?"

Tifa nodded, guiltily stealing a glance of the younger woman's midriff. Of course, there was no sign of the huge hole she'd put there. "None here," she quietly agreed.

Another burst of untainted Lifestream emerged from Yuffie, fusing with Tifa just as Cloud had, and she was gone.

"Goddamn crazy bastard, sinking my ships and my town…Shit, girl! You bet your motherfucking life we're teaming up on this one!" Cid ranted next, not letting her get a word in edgewise before he joined with her.

Nanaki nudged Tifa's hand. She knelt down and lightly scratched him behind his ears. "What happened to you?" she asked.

"Cosmo was overrun by monsters with the Stigma. I'm sorry I wasn't able to be of more assistance, Tifa," He explained. Slowly, he dissipated until there was nothing left for her to pet.

Tifa stood back up and met with a friendly clap on her back. "Looks like I'm late as usual. Long time no see, Tifa. Guess I'm in on this, too," Zack announced. She hardly saw him before his vibrant spirit barged in.

Looking ahead, two more people remained. While she'd united with old, well-known friends, Genesis had arrived as well. Between him and Aerith, a third, mysterious, gold and white-decked woman stumbled forth. Aerith and Genesis hurried to her aid, helping her stand upright.

In her right hand, she held an ornate, broken, forked war staff. From her left arm, a cracked, bent circular shield dangled, damaged beyond repair. Long, silken bolts of white cloth hung as a cape from her broad shoulder armor, ripped to shreds. A six-pronged, wheel-shaped implement at her back was contorted and out of place, with random white feathers hanging from each point. Her chest armor was severely battered; some parts had snapped off. Once upon a time, she might have been quite magnificent. Limping along, she still exuded a sort of steadfast grace. For how battered she was, her face betrayed no pain. Although brutally defeated, Tifa sensed that something about this woman was just…untouchable.

As they drew near, Genesis smirked viciously. Tifa had a feeling that under better circumstances, he would have been happy to gloat over how wrong she'd been.

"Sephiroth may have taken Gaia's life, but the Gift of the Goddess still eludes him. What is the life without the  _being_? Without it, he has nothing," he pronounced.

"Without claiming Minerva, he can't destroy another world, because this one will just fall apart. He can't really become a god," Aerith added. "But what's left of it needs to return to the cosmos…"

Hesitant but curious, Tifa approached the nigh-fallen deity. "I'm confused," she admitted.

In response, Minerva silently transferred a tendril of her Lifestream into her. Tifa gasped in response, comprehending that she was face to face with the Planet's personality, its consciousness. That's why Sephiroth's victory was, as of yet, limited. So long as this one, critical part wasn't under his control, he couldn't hold the Planet together for his use.

Tifa exhaled. Simply being in her presence alleviated so many of the mental and spiritual wounds Sephiroth had inflicted. For the first time in too, too long, Tifa could hear herself think clearly. Inwardly, she cursed herself for how sickeningly close she'd come to surrendering.

Weakly, Minerva plucked her arms free of Aerith and Genesis' support, and grasped Tifa by her shoulders, communing with her in a slow series of visual impressions. A mutual existence: that was the Goddess' offer, and her desperate plea. As one, they could flee Sephiroth, and Gaia's physical demise. She was asking her to become a surrogate for Omega. Normally, a sole human being could never carry the world's spirit energy, but how little pure Lifestream remained made it possible.

"But so much of what's happened is my fault," Tifa murmured, unable to hold her head up.

The Goddess' face softened. With closed eyes and a slow nod, she acknowledged her apology.

"She forgives you," Aerith clarified.

"Thank you…" Tifa replied, thoroughly ashamed and dumbfounded.

"Perhaps the future still holds redemption," Genesis bitterly mused.  _"'I offer thee this silent sacrifice.'_ "

As Genesis recited, he, Aerith, and Minerva dissolved together into a bright, jade-colored stream. Fluidly, it encircled Tifa, and hardened into a thick materia shell, cocooning her from the fearsome, deadly reality that awaited her. At last, the life energy that lingered within it melded with Tifa, and the transient safety of the spiritual realm passed away.

Back in-phase, she found that the Planet below had been reduced to a giant, molten mass. Nothing was left of the world she once knew; there was only a red, smoking sea of fire. In the distance, the sun remained intact, but was riddled with solar flares so immense, some still licked at the Planet's surface. Sephiroth's attack had been an illusion after all, but it was so greatly magnified that it had affected and altered the substance and behavior of reality.

Rapidly, the materia shell broke through the burning upper atmosphere, carrying her into outer space. Tifa crouched down, trembling. At what had been one of the poles, the black Lifestream coalesced, surrounding a single, majestic, abhorrent being. Glowing brighter than the sun, Sephiroth was merging with all the spirit energy he'd corrupted. Tifa held her breath, bracing for the return of his invasive psychic presence, but there was nothing. Aside from how miserably exhausted she was, her mind was blissfully clear.

Had uniting with her friends and the Goddess closed Sephiroth's telepathic door? She'd forgotten what it felt like to be able to think freely, without him listening in and devising ways to use every fleeting thought against her.

Or, maybe…maybe, he was too occupied in devouring the Planet at the moment?

" _You should get some rest, Tifa,"_ a loud thought took on Cloud's concerned voice, briefly startling her.

Was she imagining what she needed to hear to protect her fragile sanity, or was he really speaking from within her? Tifa supposed that either was possible. Regardless of why she'd heard him, she decided it was good advice. Taking advantage of her new, zero-gravity environment, Tifa stretched out her arms and legs, and floated.

As she relaxed, an abrupt, fierce sob emerged from her throat. Escape did not mean release. She'd live in fear of Sephiroth for years to come. Worse, memories of the people she'd failed would haunt her until the day she died. That is, if she was still capable of properly dying, having become Minerva's host. No measure of holy absolution would ever wash her mind clean of that damning moment when Eden had absorbed Marlene. And what of all the friends and acquaintances who hadn't appeared with Cloud and the others? What about Barret, Vincent, Reeve, Shelke, Reno, Rude, Denzel…? The list of names went on and on. Did their absence during Gaia's last moments mean that they had fallen to Sephiroth's Lifestream?

Weeping herself into a deep sleep, Tifa barely noticed when her cocoon took off, rocketing away from the Planet's remains.

* * *

 

At long last, Gaia had submitted to him. Underfoot, the world was but a dim, smoldering ember in the vastness of space. Never again would Sephiroth struggle against a Lifestream that rejected what he was, but at the same time tried to diffuse his spirit in its current. Rather than becoming a part of the Planet's system, he'd finally compelled it to conform to him. By absorbing the multitude of defeated, commingling souls into his, Sephiroth had completed his original quest.

Yet, the very person he'd chosen to survive his ascendance had far exceeded his expectations.

Sephiroth had underestimated Tifa neither in strength nor in psychological fortitude, but in sheer audacity. As he'd suspended her above the Planet, he had prematurely delighted in how perfectly he'd tamed her. Tifa's very conscience had been on the verge of implosion; the more sentimental, empathic parts of her mind had begun to identify with him. She'd been so excruciatingly close to accepting his rightful, divine existence. Given enough time at his side, and with slow, careful coercion, she would have eventually given him her wholehearted loyalty.

What Tifa had done instead filled him with indelible, obsessive fury.

As he'd sealed his victory, her former allies had intervened. Their intrusion was unremarkable; he'd counted on it. They'd stepped in exactly when he'd intended them to, preserving her from his fiery, world-wide purge. But instead of quickly reappearing to engage in one more absurd attempt to stop him, she'd become a place of refuge for the last few souls he'd not enslaved. Her sorry attempt at late-hour heroism might have proven entertaining, if none of them had been the Planet's conscious self.

He'd planned to make his journey to the heart of the universe in haste, using one world to end another, just as his Mother had in millennia past. But Tifa had rematerialized well out of his reach, freed of the telepathic bonds he'd placed upon her. Her protective materia egg bore a very slight resemblance to Omega, crowned with a semi-circle that sprouted six radiant wings when it took off, evidence of her new relationship with Gaia's will. Carrying within herself the remnants of the Planet's pure Lifestream, she'd fled. Without Gaia's consciousness under his command, the world's husk would do nothing but break up into space debris and drift away.

Sephiroth could not fathom basking in the aftermath of such a skeletal triumph.

Now, what he desired above all else was to hunt Lockhart down. Unbeknownst to her, she had neither escaped him, nor the purpose he'd planned for her. To the contrary, she'd proven herself all the more fascinating, if not something of a minor threat. What  _normal_  human being could play host to a divine, planet-binding force? No matter how terribly he scarred her body or mind, she always found a way to survive. But…did she understand what fusing with the Planet's consciousness made her? That alone justified his future pursuit.

The Lifestreams that flowed in him still called to their core, to the part of Gaia Tifa had taken from him, resonating with his desire for her mastery. They would lead Sephiroth to whatever hiding place she thought she might find. And in her wake, he'd leave an indiscriminate trail of ruin. Preying upon her undying, foolish compassion, he'd wear her down once more.

" _She is my chosen…Her arrival at each new planet hails my coming."_

Sephiroth would break her spirit so completely, she'd beg for him to make her whole again. Tifa would cry for him, and only his hands would be sufficient to soothe the deep scars he would inflict when he forced the Goddess to meld with him instead. And remake her he would. In the end, that unique creature would cling to him; worship and depend upon him. As they traversed the stars to the universal Promised Land together, she would finally appreciate how incredibly privileged she was to be preserved by Life and Death itself.

 


	21. Epilogue

Tifa stared, tight-lipped and cross-armed, out over the crater's expanse. She sat and let her legs dangle over the edge, kicking small pebbles down the steep, concave wall. In the flatlands that surrounded it, the circumference didn't look like anything but a strangely displaced hill. Only climbing to the top revealed the wide gash. Inside, a shimmering, calm, green pool had already gathered to heal the scar.

Honestly, she didn't remember much of anything about her arrival to this new world. Shortly before her flight from Sephiroth, she'd fallen unconscious. When she came to, she was resting in a bed. A rural household of humanoid creatures had been merciful enough to take her into their guardianship. Neither she nor they were too startled by each other to be civil. The differences between their respective appearances were understated; the most noticeable feature was the extra joint in their fingers. Privately, Tifa was relieved that they didn't treat her like the extraterrestrial she was. At worst, they regarded her as a suspicious, needy traveler at first.

But they had been kindly forthcoming. Her alien hosts told her that she was the one who'd created the crater, when she came crashing down from the sky. That was at least the gist of what they'd attempted to convey. A language barrier obstructed them from sharing much in the way of complex ideas.

As soon as she'd recovered enough strength to walk a few miles, one whom she perceived to be the family's matriarch brought her to this place. Laconically, using more gestures than words, she'd described how a large, emerald crystal had plunged from the night sky. She, her mate, and her daughter were drawn to the crash site by the scattered fragments of her materia vehicle and had found her in the process.

Painstakingly, she'd somehow been able to ask Tifa where she came from. Tifa did her best to explain that Gaia was dead, that her world was no more. Having to rehash that fact until she understood hurt, but her mournful state wasn't lost on her caretakers. That evening, they'd allowed their child to try to talk and play with her. Grateful for their trust and compassion, she humored her. She only wished she had an easy way to tell them why that ultimately upset her even worse, or to reassure the young one she didn't hate her.

Enraged with herself in constant remembrance of Marlene, she'd returned to her crater this morning to be alone. In the few short weeks she'd been on the foreign planet, she'd deemed the little wound her fall had left on its surface a memorial. Aside from the sporadic, gentle whispers she heard in her head late at night when she couldn't sleep, it was the only proof left that her loved ones had existed.

Tifa was incurably homesick, because she no longer had a home. There were no familiar places to which she could run and reminisce; no grave sites where she could pay her respects and try to find closure.

Sitting and losing herself in the breezy silence wasn't distracting enough. But she had yet to explore the inside of the crater. Not that there was much to see; the bottom was visible from the top. It was truly a benign, accidental wound—nothing like the near-fatal gouge Jenova had left on Gaia so long ago, creating the Northern Crater. Her rescuers wouldn't have survived a hit like that, living so close to the impact site.

Nevertheless, Tifa turned, and began shimmying down the rocky wall. There was no harm in indulging an idle curiosity. Finding solid footing immediately proved difficult, but she wasn't in a hurry. Her hosts let her come and go as she pleased and didn't seem to expect her to contribute anything yet. Normally, she would have already offered, but just convincing herself to get out of bed in the morning had turned into a grueling challenge.

Waking, sleeping, eating, breathing, living...she found she couldn't help but meet all the little everyday activities and transitions with one question: Why should I? And then, when she came up with an answer, she had to try to justify to herself why it was enough to go on, and for how long. The best Tifa could do was recognize her depression for what it was and do her best not to act according to how she felt all the time.

Something about struggling not to fall to the bottom of a steep crater minimized those depressive inner conflicts, though. What sick, perverse irony it was; she had learned to thrive on her own fear. Without something awful and life threatening to push her along for once, Tifa had become…lost. After all she'd endured, something about living in safety felt…not wrong, but misplaced.

About a third of the way down, a light whirlwind grazed her back. Tifa half expected to run into some flying monsters, but again, this wasn't such a severe scar on the planet's surface. The shallow Lifestream pool in its bottom wouldn't attract anything big. Actually, from what she could tell so far, this world was very much at peace. There were hardly any monsters at all, and the  _one_  she'd encountered on the way here was quite weak.

Tifa decided that if she ever chose to tell her new companions about her ordeals, she'd do it when their daughter wasn't around to listen.

A ghost of a melancholy smile weaseled its way onto her face. So, she still had that protective, motherly streak after all. Eden hadn't completely ruined it. "I guess I'll never learn," she mumbled.

Soon, the curve of the wall grew shallow, eliminating the need to climb down. Carefully, Tifa flipped around, and stood. From here, she could increase her pace, jumping from rock to rock until she reached the bottom.

But a few steps out, she tripped over an uneven stone, and tumbled the rest of the way. Scrapes and bruises formed all over her body until she came to a stop, lying on her back. Tifa grimaced and clenched her hands into frustrated fists. In response, her right hand oozed with slick moisture.

For a long while, she just lay still, inhaling deep, slow breaths. She gazed into the baby blue, partly cloudy sky, and listened to the little noises the creatures around her made. Some chirped like birds; others barked and whined. Insects still buzzed and whirred, like always. Absorbing the sights, sounds, and scents of nature around her, she staved off the oncoming flashback.

Her superficial cuts and scrapes were not the result of having to fight and kill a good friend, but from a clumsy fall. The dull, throbbing ache at the back of her head was there because she'd hit it, not because her brain was being stretched beyond its natural limits by a telepathic arch-nemesis. When she cried, it was because she was exhausted and wished she could simply forget, not because she felt like those things were happening again. At least, not this time.

Tifa rubbed her fingers together. Either she'd cut that hand pretty deep, or the moisture was gunk from the Mako pool. Involuntarily, she pictured Marlene, bathing in Jenova's remains, and shuddered. Coming down here hadn't been the greatest idea after all. It was fraught with all kinds of disjointed, random reminders. But it was so hard not to be reminded, no matter where she was. Through Eden, Sephiroth had tainted so many aspects of everyday life for her.

Reluctantly, she lifted the offending hand to see whether or not it was bleeding. Her heart rate slowed. Clear residue from the pool dripped from her fingers, and onto her face, absolutely harmless. Tifa stood and surveyed the area for a safer way to climb back up her crater's wall. She'd scared herself enough for one morning.

As she spotted a potentially gentler path, a large air pocket surfaced in the center of the pool, creating a huge bubble. Mildly peeved, Tifa picked up a small rock, and tossed it in to pop it.

When it burst, a thin, black outline formed around the spot where the bubble had risen. The Lifestream stirred, shifting slightly, and it was gone.

Tifa shook her head. She wouldn't be visiting this place again for a long while…

 


End file.
